


I'll Keep You Safe Inside

by SteamyLego (RoakAssault)



Category: MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:51:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoakAssault/pseuds/SteamyLego
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank has really fucking awful parents. They sell him to strangers online to make some extra money, which leads to him being dangerously rented. He's continually conflicted, debating in his mind if he should tell someone, in fear of losing his parents or being accused of lying. Generally, he just wants to feel safe. He just doesn't know who can do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy 12th

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SorrRY if real people fanfics make you uncomfortable, I am. The purpose is not to pretend this happened to these people but rather already have somewhat established characteristics for characters. I'm also sorry that it's so... well, you'll see.

Frank closed his eyes as he turned, exposing his bare backside to the computer’s cameras. The voice from the monitor spoke, “Mmmm yeah, like that”. That voice gave him chills. The man groaned from the other side and Frank shivered again when he considered that noise had meant. After hesitating a moment, Frank turned to face the camera once again. 

The man had paid for an hour long session and Frank could only hope it was nearing the end. These “appointments” always feel endless to him. He was good at hiding it though. He learned early on in his life that putting up any sort of fight was useless. Putting on any act other than what they paid for was a lost cause. He knew he was just a dime a dozen. There were plenty of other people willing to sell their kids to make money.

Frank was pulled from his thoughts as the man spoke again, “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you around here again, Snow White,” he said. Frank could have puked. “Snow White” is code for an item with pale skin and dark hair. Frank’s skin was, certainly, white as porcelain which contrasted strongly with his jet-black hair. When he thought about how many strangers have seen his skin he became disgusted and wished he could cover himself, hide under some blanket in a dark corner until he wasted away and crumpled to a pile of dust. 

The timer sounded and Frank’s mother rushed in the door. Frank hunched over and collected his clothes in the corner. He heard his mother and the man discussing the “next time” and payment. But of course, they were compensated up front. They learned long ago that their “customers” were more than happy to flee after the show was over. But that was long ago. Years and dozens of performances later, here they were, Frank containing knowledge he never really wanted to and his parents profiting off of his pain.  
He buttoned his pants and looked towards his mother. She was writing something down on a notepad. Frank sighed as he knew he’d soon be spending more time with that same voice from the monitor. He looked at the digital clock on the nightstand, reading ’11:30’ as the time. These late nights were something he was used to by now. Around now is when the interested pursuers look for a show.

His mother closed the laptop and looked toward her son, a content expression on her face. “You did so well, Frankie,” she beamed, “He wants to come back for more. Your father will certainly be happy with your performance.” She brought Frank in for a hug and he smiled. He really loved his mom. He sometimes didn’t understand why she made him stay with those voices, but he trusted her judgment. She was his safe-haven from his father. His father often got mad at him, especially when he cried.

He smiled at the thought of his dad being proud of him for once.

“Let’s go get dinner ready for dad,” his mom said. Frank waddled over to the door behind his mom, locking the room which haunted him each day. He remembered the first time his mom had locked him in it alone. He had pounded on the door and cried at the dimly lit room, a deep voice speaking through the computer. He had a brief moment of relief when it opened only to be met with his father’s angry hand. He had fallen back into the room as his dad yelled at him to obey. Frank had whimpered as his dad slapped him once more. He was just lucky that that particular “customer” had been into that.

Frank rounded the corner into the kitchen and sat at the table, looking over his math homework for that night. He sighed at the equations and wrote the date atop the page. He paused after writing “10/30”. He looked up quickly, “My birthday is tomorrow!” he told his mother. He had forgotten, what with all the Halloween preparation. He had to be the best vampire on the block. 

He beamed as his mother turned a questionable expression on her face. She looked at Frank as his smile faded. His mother spoke, “The man who just saw you wanted another session tomorrow, Frankie. I completely forgot about Halloween.” His smile vanished completely as he took in the news. He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. “Maybe we can talk to him and see if there’s another time that works. I just don’t know how we’d get in contact-.” 

The front door slammed as Frank’s father arrived home. He heard scuffling in the living room as he froze, tears still in the corners of his eyes as his mother turned back to cooking. His father entered the kitchen and looked to his son’s face. Frank knew he got mad when he cried. “What’s going on? Did he cause problems again?” his father asked his wife, never breaking eye contact with Frank. “No, he performed well tonight. He just didn’t want to tomorrow, with Halloween and such,” she replied monotonously. 

Frank hated how she was in front of his father. It’s like she only pretended to like Frank when his dad wasn’t around.

Frank cowered as he saw his father’s expression harden. “Selfish little Frankie thinks he too special to stay in on Halloween, does he?” his father rhetorically asked. Frank squeaked when he said “It’s my birthday, too.” He heard his father’s breaths pick up as he raised his voice, “Because I don’t sacrifice every day? Like I would ever complain about working on my birthday. Get over yourself, you little faggot,” he spat at his son.

Frank held back a sob as tears streamed down his face, only angering his father more. “Oh, so you’re sad you can’t go running with your little boyfriends tomorrow? What, did you want to work the streets, you little slut?” Frank’s nose began to run as he cried against his father’s words. His father pushed a dining room chair over as he made his way to Frank. He slapped him across the face and he fell to the floor, still crying.

“Get up!” his father ordered. He stood up weakly in fear of being hit down again. As he stood on his feet, his father abruptly grabbed his hair, pulling him towards the locked room Frank had just left. He slammed the door, throwing Frank to the ground. Frank whimpered as he read the clock once more, ’11:50’.

His father ripped open the laptop they used for customers and turned it towards the bed. Frank sobbed through fear and confusion. The man began to record, moving towards his son. Frank’s eyes widened as he was thrown onto the bed, his stomach against the old sheets. He felt the pants which had been just recently put back on ripped off him once again. He was turned over abruptly as his dad spoke harshly, “Open up.” 

A large member was shoved into his mouth repeatedly as he gagged against the skin. Suddenly, he was flipped onto his front once more. He cried out as he felt wet fingers against his hole. “You want to slut it up… I’ll teach you, you faggot.” Frank screamed as he felt a finger harshly thrust into his rear. He cried even harder when another was added. The fingers pumped in and out of him, and suddenly left all at once. 

Frank breathed out a shaky breath as he hoped it was over. He was shocked when he felt a large member fill him up all at once. He screamed in pain as the man moved over him. “Shut the fuck up,” he groaned as he pushed his son’s face into the sheets. The boy felt a rip as blood leaked out of his hole. He cried into the sheets, muffled and in agonizing pain.

Frank felt hands grab him around his torso as he was sat on top of the large member. Frank felt a daze come over him as his brain dissociated, losing all reason and will to protest. His father thrust into him faster as pain ripped throughout his body. He felt a hot liquid spew into his bottom as his father groaned in release. 

Frank weakly clawed at the sheets, only to have his father pull him close once more. They heard the alarm clock ring throughout the room, an automatic signal that it was midnight.

His father smirked as he spoke into his son’s ear, “happy birthday, Frankie.” Frank cried, his father leaving him alone and messy on the bed sheets, tears mixing with blood. Frank was 12. Frank was ready to die.


	2. "Shy"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank's Birthday! AND Halloween. Wow. So fun.

Frank vacantly stared at his sleeves as the teacher lectured the class. Her chalk scraped against the blackboard and he winced against the noise, his tired ears sensitive. He had lain awake in the room where his father had left him for 3 more hours before he was finally pulled into sleep. He had woken up 4 hours later for school, his eyes heavy from crying and his cheek a light shade of purple. Now he sat in class, exhausted but terrified of any sort of bed. He looked to his side as he felt a small hand tap his shoulder, meeting a grinning face. "Hey, Bob," Frank sighed. "Dude, it's your birthday today, right?" Bob asked. Frank nodded slightly, knowing what would come next. "MRS. SMITH!" Bob screamed, "IT'S FRANKIE'S BIRTHDAY!"

Frank blushed and looked down, unable to hide a small smile. The English teacher looked back at them and paused before she cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at Bob playfully. "I'd thank you kindly not to yell out like that, Mr. Bryer." She winked at Frank before leading the song. The whole class joined in a "happy birthday" for their classmate. Frank was fully grinning by the end as his classmates cheered for his birthday. Bob pulled him close and spoke into his ear, "Happy Birthday, Frankie".

He froze as he felt his friend's breath on his face and was pulled in the memory of the night before. He felt his father's voice on his neck as he spoke to him when the day turned at midnight. "Happy birthday, Frankie." The words rung in his head as the smile ran away from his face. He felt the numbness of yesterday's events shatter as heat rose in his throat and tears appeared on his eyes. He looked towards his desk and let his hair fall on his face as he tried not to completely unravel in front of everyone. There was a light murmur as his classmates noticed the shift in mood. Frank felt the initial tears begin to make their way down his face. He was so mad at himself for crying. He furrowed his brow in discontent and watched a single tear splat against the desk. A soft hand touched his shoulder and he continued to look down. He heard his teacher speak closely and softly, "I'm sorry, hun. I didn't realize you were so shy..." Mrs. Smith looked down in concern. She hadn't known Frank for long, it only being about two months into the school year. She had suspicions the boy was fragile, but this was still somewhat concerning to her as a teacher. She breathed out softly, "You can step out if you-"

That was all Frank needed. He bolted from his desk and fast-walked to the bathroom. He locked himself in a stall as he let out a loud sob. He collapsed with his back to the door and held his face in his black sweater sleeves. He cried. A day didn't go by when Frank didn't feel absolutely alone in the world. He cried, longing for sentimental touch just once. The kind of touch that makes you feel safe. He cried for how badly he wanted a home to go to. Not a house, but a home. He wanted to feel safe. He hugged his knees tighter as the thought ran through his mind repeatedly. He just wanted to feel safe. He knew deep down that his parents weren't loving. He told himself that his mother did. Though she made him do terrible things, she must love him. He told himself that his father may one day be proud of him. And then he'd love him. He so badly wanted his parents to love him as he wanted to love them. He wanted to be....safe.

Frank groaned softly into his arms and continued to cry. He heard the bathroom door open and shoved his head further into his clothes, attempting to muffle the sobs. "Frank?" he heard the voice of his teacher ask questioningly. He briefly tried to stop crying before he continued to sob into his knees. His teacher breathed out, "...I can call your parents if you want to go home...". His heart sank as he imagined the consequence of inconveniencing one of his parents. Fear fell over him as he realized he might not be able to go out tonight if he didn't pull it together. With all the strength he could muster, Frank promptly stood up and clicked the door open. Drained from crying, he weakly eyed the floor, "No... it's fine," he managed to get out, his eyes red and puffy. Mrs. Smith tried to reason why a seventh grade boy would be so upset by some harmless attention. She decided there was probably an underlying cause. "Frank, is something wrong?" As he turned his face still look at the ground, the teacher saw the light shading on his pale skin. Her heart stopped a bit as she thought of how to phrase her next question, "What happened to your cheek?" Frank's heart skipped as he conjured an excuse. "Got in a fight with some kid," Frank mumbled out. "Who?"

"He lives in my neighborhood," Frank said. She thought for a second before deciding that's all she'd push today. "Well if you ever have a problem, my door is always open. Okay?" Frank nodded softly, still staring at the ground. She began to put her arm around the boy to lead him out, back to class, but stopped when he tensed at her touch. She gestured towards to door and watched Frank scuffle out, still looking towards the ground. She followed closely after, watching him the whole way back. The class looked towards the door when Frank reentered. There was low murmuring as Frank hung his head in shame back to his desk. "Alright, everyone. Back to work," Mrs. Smith announced as she walked in after Frank. She began to teach once again but eyes continued to steal glances at Frank for the rest of the period. Frank could feel the staring and just felt more ashamed. When the bell rang, signaling the end of English, Bob approached Frank. "You okay, man?" He asked. Frank nodded promptly, trying his best to shake off his thoughts. He gave a weak smile. Bob started, "Hey, but... tonight! You're going trick-or-treating, right?" Frank let out a sound of agreement and smiled. "I'm going to be a vampire this year," he added. Bob nudged him playfully, "Hey! You stole my idea!" Frank let out a small giggle. "Well," Bob said, "I guess I'll just have to get a BETTER costume!" Frank jokingly put on an expression of shock, "How DARE you insult my CULTURE," he whisper screamed. They laughed as they walked to Maths. Frank smiled at the fun they would have tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a filler- less action, more internal conflict. IMPORTANT thoughhhhh


	3. The Safety Found in Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HALLOWEEN! such fun.

Frank quickly got ready to leave for Halloween. His dad usually came home later and he didn't want to wait around for the interception. He figured his dad could sell that video he made to the customer he was supposed to meet, meaning he'd be clear to go out. He didn't really want to stick around for any clarification, though. He never really wanted to see his dad again. Besides, it was too late to stop him now. As he put his cape on and turned to the mirror to apply make up, he smiled. He loved pretending to be somebody else-even if just for a night. He loved being anyone but himself. For just an increment of time he could imagine he was a vampire, far away from his parents and all webcams. His biggest concern tonight was the fiendish search for blood and candy. He felt his heart rise as he darkened the colors around his already dark eyes, making him look even more deathly. He was happy to hide the shame, hide himself from the world. Tonight, he knew, would be fun, as he wouldn't be there. His mask would. His alternate personality would.

Frank finished applying blood to the corner of his mouth and stepped out of the bathroom. His cape fluttered behind him as he quickly made his way out of the house, pillowcase in hand. Bob was going to meet him at the corner of their street. As he approached the 'stop' sign at the end of the road, his smile widened at the sight of his friend, who had transformed into a zombie. Bob turned to see his friend and approached him, grinning. Bob's mom called from the front of their house, "BE SAFE YOU TWO!" Frank bitterly smiled at the mother's concern. He thought about what his parents might say if he was found dead, in the gutter. If anything, they'd probably be about as upset if they heard that their blender had broken. After all, with Frank would die some profit. He was just an item to them.

He was pulled out of his thoughts at Bob's voice, "Are you READY?" he playfully challenged. Frank giggled and nodded, stepping ahead with black converse. He and Bob laughed as they made their way around the neighborhood. Their bags slowly filled up as they collected more and more treats. The autumn air was so crisp as Frank breathed. It was nice to remember the world outside of his awful home. He and Bob laughed together, as he took in the time, savoring each moment. Maybe he could replace all of the bad times with nights like this. They made their rounds until around 7:30, when they decided to head to the park to trade and take inventory.

"Do you have anymore Reeses?" Frank whined. "Here, take them," Bob threw five little square orange packages at him, "it's your birthday, anyway." Frank gladly accepted with a mischievous grin, "Think of it as a trade for not biting your neck and drinking your BLOOD!" They both laughed as Frank closed his bag. They had been at the park for about thirty minutes now and it was beginning to get dark. The boys looked at the pink sky as the color slowly fell behind the mountains. Frank sighed at the sight. The color gave him some security. He trusted his friend next to him and felt comforted at his presence. He eyes were growing heavy as he felt he could fall asleep with a warm little body next to him. He closed his eyes to take in the cold warmth of the evening sun as Bob tapped him on the shoulder. "We should probably head home," Bob whispered, "It's getting dark." Frank nodded and slowly stood up. 'Home'. If anything, he'd rather sleep in the cold embrace of the park than in the ugly desolation of his house. He longingly stared at the sun as they got up. He turned his head to the purple air to begin their walk home, noticing a tall dark figure behind them, motionless. Frank's eyes lingered a bit on the figure before he turned completely. He walked steadily with Bob back to their street.

After about 3 minutes, Frank glanced behind himself, surprised and slightly concerned to see the stranger still behind them. He gulped, thinking ahead to the portion of his walk home he would have to do alone. Suddenly the comfort of the evening turned sharply colder. The purple air was now black and his stomach turned, anxious. With every passing step he grew more scared for the night and his own safety. Bob, oblivious next to him, noticed Frank's sudden stiffness. "Hey...you good?" he asked. Frank nodded, a sickened look still on his face. The black figure stayed behind them.

Frank dared to steal yet another glance at the man, surprised and relieved to see him turn away as the friends approached the 'stop' sign once again. He breathed out heavily, as Bob turned to sign off. "Bye, Frank. Happy Birthday!" Bob pulled his friend in for a hug, and Frank gladly accepted. He took in Bob's warmth and scent before his friend was pulling away, all too quickly. He waved as he watched his friend walk up his porch into his loving home.

Frank sighed before he turned to walk towards his own house. His hand free from carrying his bag was tucked into his black pocket. He comfortably strolled along the side walk, contentedly breathing and remembering the fun he just had. He was taken out of his thoughts when he heard approaching footsteps behind him. He nervously looked back to see the same black figure behind, growing closer and closer with each second. 

Frank's heart quickened as he tried not to show that he was panicked, slightly picking up his pace, but not by much. His house was still about 500 feet away and Frank knew he just had to make it a bit more. He was now in front of a foreclosed and "haunted" house surrounded by unhoused fields, and Frank knew this was bad. The footsteps were quickly near behind, and Frank could now hear the man's breathing along with his heart in his chest. He felt a cold hand against his shoulder blade and felt shudders ripple down his spine, stopping in his tracks. His head whipped around to meet a man's face. He did not recognize him and his eyes widened even more when the figure gave him a smile. They stared at eachother, the man's expression smug and Frank's utterly confused. He felt his blood stop flowing as the man leaned in close to his ear, "I'd recognize you anywhere, Snow White."

Frank gasped at the voice. They both knew that Frank remembered who it was- the man from the night before. Horror spread across Frank's chest as he felt a hand touch him through his shirt. His breath grew faster as he felt adrelaline pump through him. He attempted to run when the man grabbed his arm, holding him in place. Frank let out a yelp before he was brought close to the stranger, a hand against his mouth. He felt the man whisper again, "Not so fast." Frank writhed around, attempting to break free of the hold. "Hey," the man spoke, "I paid good money for you tonight, baby." Frank's motion stopped cold and he stiffened even more.

His parents...rented him? To a stranger? Even in Frank's twisted world, this was a new type of fucked up. His reality came crashing down as he felt a large hand feel him through his jeans. He yelled a muffled yell and began to cry. "Hold on now," the voice said, "that's for later." Frank felt one hand pull away and used the chance to try to run-run anywhere. Not home, that's for fucking sure, but just away from this man. He was held back by his arm before the man said harshly, "I said...WAIT," as he knocked Frank to the ground. "Shit... I was supposed to return you with minimal damage," the man said. Frank was hit with a lot of force, but the natural adrenaline in his body helped him to get up quickly.

It wasn't fast enough as the man again, took Frank in his arms. restraining him with one as he pulled a cloth up with the other. Frank smelled cigarettes and sweat as the towel was brought to his face and Frank screamed through the cloth. "I'll try not to hurt you too bad, baby." A pungent and sweet scent filled his nostrils with his quick breathing. Frank's panicked mind suddenly fell silent, darkness hitting him and silencing his suffering.


	4. Hope Falling Like Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the great fun terrible things to happen. Thanks parents... a lot.

Frank felt his eyes creak open and could feel movement around him. He heard the sound and felt the relaxing lull of a moving car and was confused for a moment. He tried to retrace his steps to figure out how he had got here. It was dark and smelled like gasoline and he could hear the gentle sound of rain hitting the car's surface. He closed his eyes and thought back-He knew it had been Halloween. He was going out. He knew he went trick or treating, walked home with Bob, and then...

Frank shot his head up and hit the roof of the trunk with a 'thunk'. His breath quickened as he reached towards his head with his hands, finding that they were tied together with coarse rope. He began to hyperventilate as he hit the sides of the car with his hands. 

"Help!" he yelled, tears in his throat. He listened to his heart beating as he made more panicked noises. He kicked at the hard surface over him with as much force as he could muster. Frank hated small spaces, and the fact that he was in the trunk of a strange man didn't help much. He grabbed his hair with his hand and breathed quickly, terrified. He put together that his parents got into contact with this customer and found out he lived close by. Frank recalled the website he had used with this guy had been location based. His mind was screaming and numb at the same time, telling him to run, but knowing that he couldn't. He shuddered at the thought that his own parents would rent him, their child, to basically a stranger. He didn't want to know what that man would do to him. He didn't want to find out. Frank yelled out once again, hitting above himself with his bound hands and panting out heavily. He froze as the car slowed down and his heart sunk, knowing he would have to meet that man. He cried loudly as the vehicle stopped and he heard the trunk click. He felt the open air hit him as the trunk was opened. Frank cowered away in a corner of the small space, avoiding his captor. He brought his knees close to his chest and tried to be as small as possible when the man spoke, "Don't play hard to get, now." 

Frank shivered and sobbed as the man pulled at his clothes. He screamed and pulled back when he felt a hand grab his face. Frank clawed at the arms weakly with his wrists together as he felt a hand push into his mouth. He gagged on the man's fingers as a small pill slid down the walls of his throat. He pushed at the large body and felt the hand leave his mouth. Frank coughed and pushed himself into the corner of the trunk once again. He could hardly see the outline of the man when he spoke, "Now maybe you'll ease up." 

Frank hugged himself closely as he cried loudly in the car, the man standing in front of him. 

"Hey now," the man spoke, "we'll have a nice time... I won't hurt you too badly."

Frank saw the vague outline of the figure begin to lean towards him and he pushed his back into the wall of the trunk. He breathed in sharp breaths as fingertips ran against the clothing on his chest. The cold air wrapped around him and his brain screamed at the foreign touch. He sobbed at the hand and pressed even further into the back of the car's wall, turning his head to the side. His tied hands strained against the rope as the stranger felt him, rubbing his torso up and down, taking in the delicate form. 

"Can't wait... Til you're in bed," the man breathed out in a low tone. Frank turned to the side to move from the man's touch with shuddery breaths, only to feel a hand slowly raking up his thigh. He whimpered as the hand felt his crotch, crying softly now, warm tears streaking his face. His body and mind were tired and he knew he had nowhere to run. His mind told him that his size was nothing compared to this man. Though as the hand reached for the zipper on Frank's pants, his resigned breaths picked up. He whined loudly and thrashed his legs in the arms' general direction, causing the man to curse and pull his hands away. Frank panted, feeling the man back off. His crying halted, being replaced with pure resentment. 

"Little shit!" the man yelled as he grabbed the small body. The large hands wrapped around his torso in anger. Frank yelled loudly once and thrashed in the large arms. He struggled against the man's size as he was lifted from the car. Pushing away with his tied hands, Frank grunted against the man in protest as he was dragged towards an unfamiliar house. Through his struggle he looked around to see a few houses nearby. If he could just pry himself from these arms he could run and scream for help. He pushed against the figure with all the strength he had. He brought his knee up to meet the man's crotch, earning a yelp and loosened grip. Frank seized the chance, pushing the man off and sprinted towards the street, his tied hands in front of him. He breathed heavily and let his adrenaline move his legs, his mind towards the unfamiliar street. A full moon beamed down, turning the clouds above him grey as he sharply took in the cold and wet air. He felt hope rise in his chest as he breathed heavily with new purpose. He spotted a blue house with porch lights on about 700 ahead, on a large hill. His shoes pounded against the pavement, his converse flat against the ground. The cold air only drove him forward as rain hit his face and skin. He knew he would make it. There was no way he wouldn't get away from that man. He had to. 

He was running towards safety. His parents couldn't stop him. His pulse raced as new tears ran down his face. He wanted to make it so badly. He wanted to be safe. His mind told him that this was it. He would never spend another night feeling vulnerable, filthy, alone. He was moving towards hope.

It was too long before he was at the base of the hill. He could have collapsed in joy. Suddenly, his legs did feel as though they would collapse from under him. It was as though his energy had hit a wall. He willed himself to move forward only to be met with shaky limbs. His knees gave out and he fell on his face, into the grass, with a confused yell. His heart seemed to slow as his eyes felt heavy all of a sudden. He groaned on the grass and told himself to get the fuck up. His body fell fast asleep as his racing mind glazed. He whimpered to himself as he felt the flesh attached to himself become weak. His thoughts were panicked as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was doing. His mind screamed as he heard in his daze footsteps moving towards him. The scent of the man came crashing over Frank's impaired senses as the arms reached around the boy's torso.

"Thank god," he heard the man breathe out. Frank weakly groaned as he fell farther away into himself and felt the man throw him over his shoulder. He attempted to kick his legs forward and weakly squirmed against the man. He heard a broken sounds leave his throat and the fight drained from his veins. 

"You're mine now, baby," the man said against Frank's back. The man chuckled as Frank felt the hope crash down around him. Light tears fell on his cheeks once again and mixed with the light drizzle from the sky. He felt the uneasy feeling return to his stomach. Why had he tried to escape? He knew that even behind the mask he had attempted to wear he was still less than a person. He was merely an object that you could buy. Who would want to help him anyway? He probably would have been turned down had he made it to the front door. He shuddered against the man at this helpless feeling, hiding his face in the dirty smelling cloth. 

"Don't cry, babe. We're gonna have a good night," he said as Frank's tears and snot made a wet spot on his shirt. 

The fear in the boy's chest grew as the man carried him into the house. It was a dimly lit musty place. Frank watched the ground pass behind the man's feet. He felt his heavy eyes misted over as his panicking mind slowly pulled away from reality. A door closed behind them and Frank was placed on a white bed. The lights around him swirled as he backed in and out of his mind. His thoughts became increasingly groggy and the only thing he could do was watch the man in front of him. Orbs of urgency bubbled against his skull as his body laid limp. Frank's chest rose and fell and his body felt much too warm. He was vaguely aware of what was happening. He felt his hot breath leave through his nose as he stared at the blaring lights on the ceiling. He heard the hum of the man's voice as he spoke out loud. Frank's body was met with the hands once more. They traced the soft skin on his torso and lifted his shirt slowly off of his body. Frank was far away and could hardly register the man feeling him up. After his shirt was off, he felt empty again, a sudden loss of contact overcoming him. He peacefully breathed at the ceiling fan, passing air in and out of his lungs. His subconscious continued to scream at him as his frontal thoughts struggled with the events unfolding in front of his eyes. One of the hands began to trace over Frank's crotch again and he felt anger faintly rise in his brain. His jaw tensed as much as it could and tears again rose up onto his face and heat lumped in his throat. He felt the button undone and the zipper slide down his jeans. His muscles only betrayed him and laid still as he was violated. 

"Fuck... you're even more beautiful in person, babe," the man groaned out. 

Frank processed his situation and could do nothing but wait. He knew what was coming and would never be ready for this type of treatment. It was inhuman. His pants off, Frank brokenly whimpered as the hands groped his genitals through his underwear. A wave of hormones rushed to his lower region and Frank fought off the involuntary and unfamiliar feelings. What he meant to be a yelp out of his throat came instead a weak moan. His eyes pressed out hot tears through squeezed eyes as he grew harder in the stranger's hand. He cursed his body for betraying him in two different ways at once. He felt so dirty, getting pleasure from such a filthy ordeal. 

The man smirked and spoke, "Looks like someone was fighting for nothing."

Frank panted and felt his face grow warmer. He felt so sick. His disgust was washed over by the affect of the drug and the unwanted pleasure. The man's hand suddenly pulled away and Frank let out a whimper, the loss surprising him through impaired reflexes. He internally cursed himself for making the noise. The man chuckled again and spread the boy's legs farther apart. Frank felt his underwear sliding down his legs with urgency. He stupidly thought back to his cape. He wondered where it could be. He nostalgically remembered the park on that same evening and how he had felt so safe under its glow. He let more tears slip from his eyes as he wished he could always feel that secure. 

He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts as a finger worked its way into his hole. He yelped as loud as he could while under the drug's affects and laid, shocked, with his mouth open as the digit worked in and out of him. He heard the man mutter something to himself as another finger stretched his skin. The subdued pain ripped through him and he cried out once again. "So tight," the man grunted as Frank attempted to understand the pain inside him. He felt himself breathe out lightly for a moment and was roughly rolled onto his stomach. His tear-stained cheek pressed against the sheets and he closed his eyes, waiting to be filled with the man's member. He was shocked when he felt a tongue against himself. He moaned lightly and, ashamed, pressed his face into the bed sheets. He muffled any protesting or agreeing noise he made. When the tongue finally left, Frank sighed and was suddenly filled with a large member.

He screamed loudly as pain shot through his bottom. He felt his limp body move forward as the man thrust into him. He whimpered and heard the man curse in pleasure. Frank weakly grabbed at the bed sheets as he was used in a violent manner. The tip of the man's member brushed up against Frank's prostate and he yelled out in pleasure and pain. 

"Ah, fuck," the man exclaimed, "I'm gonna cum."

Frank shouted once more when his spot was hit dead on. The man moaned at his noises and continued to try to hit his sweet spot. He thrust hard into Frank, causing the boy to yell once more. With two more thrust, the man was driven over the edge and let his cum fill the boy.

Frank prayed it could be over as he was rolled over once more onto his back. He was surprised when the man began to lick at Frank's own member, earning a shame-filled whine from the boy. Frank roughly came into the stranger's mouth and immediately felt a wave of exhaust hit him. He paused briefly and then began to cry. He sobbed at his own participation and his failed attempts to get away. 

"Shut the fuck up, slut," he heard the man order. Frank only cried harder at this. He was a slut. He felt so filthy. His body hadn't fought to leave. His body had grown hard in the dirty touch. The man grumbled as he wet a cloth once more with the powerful chemical. Frank's noises became muffled as the towel was brought to his face and he recognized the scent, bracing himself for darkness. This time, though, he had no fight left. He was thankful for the embrace of black that would help him escape his hell, his life. The last thought that crossed his mind was the thought that he would never be safe, never be loved. He welcomed the silence that fell over his manipulated muscles and laid absolutely limp on the stranger's bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer but you know....  
> and sorry. It's all very....yeah.


	5. New "Hope"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank wakes up in the trunk again. At least the worst is over- for tonight, that is.

Frank felt darkness all around him. It was a calm feeling, serene cleanliness. His chest was rising and falling in a slow rhythm. He hadn't felt this sort of stillness in longer than he can recall. It felt like he was flying, floating in nothing. It was nice. He felt himself exist, but nothing else. No thoughts or fears. Just stillness. 

Slowly drops of consciousness began to surface within him. They started at a slow drizzle but collectively swirled into his chest. Frank felt reality collapse in on him as he awoke abruptly. He attempted to pick his head up but found he was in an enclosed area as he was when he woke up before. The movement of the car slowly sunk into him as the smell of gasoline once again worked its way into his pores. He felt panic rise in his chest before the recent sequence of events were recollected all at once inside his mind.

He felt sort of disconnected from reality since there was technically nothing imminent to fear anymore. All that was going to happen between him and that stranger had happened. Though he was literally in the trunk of a car, he had had such a hard day and every part of his body was tired. Induced sleep was powerful but it was not necessarily actual rest. He curled up and shifted onto his right side with great difficulty. His muscles still felt stiff from whatever that guy had given him, not to mention his sore ass.

He stared out into the darkness and listened to the hum of the car against the pavement. He thought hard through a slightly foggy mind about what he should do. Frank didn't want to live at that house anymore. He felt hot tears begin to roll down his face as they spilled over his eyes in anguish. He just wanted a home. He was convinced anything would be better than his current living conditions. He wanted a family to wake up to, not a dirty trunk. He wanted his family to help him with problems, not cause them. Frank wanted people to love, not to resent. 

He slowly became lost in his thoughts until he was consumed by them. Would anyone miss him if he was gone? He thought of how sweet the embrace of death could be. Even if there was no afterlife, he would never have to worry about being in danger again. In a way, the game would be over. No more pain. Plus, he could spite his parents with a loss of profit. He disconnectedly pondered what the stillness of being permanently unconscious might feel like, his tears slowing and his mind slipping from reality. 

Sure, he knew there were good parts of life. But to Frank, they all felt like distractions from the dread and suffering of the real world. He had certainly seen the worst of people as well as experienced it firsthand. He wondered if there was really such a thing as being happy. How could one ever completely distract themselves from the immense amount of pure suffering the world experienced every day? He knew there was no escaping to find a better side of humanity. He had tried escaping, only to have the universe show him that he wasn't worthy of finding a way out. He had told himself for once that he mattered only to have it proven to him that his initial belief that he was less than human was more than accurate. He knew he was an object. Why did he even have a name? Why did his parents ever want him? Why does he exist? 

Frank was finally lulled from his mind with the shivering off of the car. He heard the car door open and slam shut, knowing the trunk would be opened soon. He decided it'd be best to pretend to sleep. He could barely move and he didn't want to consciously face his captor or either of his parents. He closed his eyes quickly before the lid of the trunk could be opened and tried to look like he was passed out. The cold outside air fled into the stuffy trunk as the lid was opened and he immediately smelled the man again and slightly shuddered.  
"Fuck," he heard the man mutter, "aren't you awake yet? That stuff must a' been strong." Frank felt the hands grab him again. He tried to not tense and remain dead weight as he was awkwardly lifted.  
He heard the man grunt as he brought Frank up to his chest. Frank sensed lights being turned on through his closed eyes as he remained still. A door opened and closed. He heard his dad's voice,  
"He asleep?"  
"Nah, I had to give him something to calm down before. Hasn't worn off yet."  
"Hey, don't be damaging my merchandise," his dad's voice spoke louder.  
"Don't worry. It'll lose its affect by morning."  
"If it doesn't, you'll have to pay."  
Frank felt the man begin to walk again and felt stronger light against his skin and eyelids. Keeping still wasn't too hard. He was so unbelievable exhausted.  
"Where do I put him?" the man asked passively.  
"Doesn't matter," his dad said, uncaring.  
Frank was dropped on the couch in the living room on his right side. He breathed out in relief once he was no longer in the man's arms.  
"How much?"  
"$200, since you brought him back. Whole night would be $500."  
Frank heard the fluttering of paper and felt sick. Was he really worth that little?  
"When's the next time I could rent him?"  
"Whenever you need him," his dad stated smugly. Frank internally screamed knowing he might be spending more time with this man. He heard the man chuckling as the door closed once again. He now only sensed the presence of his father faintly through his drug-induced daze. His heart drowned in a pool of emotion as his mind dared to slip back into sleep though he trusted his father not at all. He sighed out and still felt the warm and useless nature of his muscles, deciding that sleeping was all he could really do. He let his thoughts become jumbled as he drifted off into his mind. Before he could completely slip into sleep, he felt his dad's hand on his neck. Two fingers were held softly against his skin as the man felt a soft heartbeat and breathed out, "Still has a pulse at least."  
He would tense if his muscles weren't sleeping. He awaited in glazed over anticipation and heard his dad speak, "I never thought I'd be thankful to have a son."  
Frank felt the hand leave his body and fell asleep quickly. He knew he didn't have the energy to ponder the shit his dad was serving, and his body agreed as it quickly became unconscious.  
\------------------------------------------  
When Frank woke up, it was dark. He felt soft sheets beneath him and realized was no longer on the couch. As he lifted his head, he felt a massive headache took over him. He confusedly groaned and tried to recollect a bit. He squinted in thought, trying to imagine one of his parents caring enough to make him comfortable.  
He looked to the soft glow of a red digital alarm clock beside his bed and it read '10:43'. He made a confused noise as he realized he had slept through the entire day. It hadn't felt like it at all. He smiled darkly as he realized his parents likely only moved him because he had been getting in the way of sitting on the couch. 

Suddenly he remembered his dad's voice. "I never thought I'd be thankful to have a son."  
Frank felt something well-up in his chest at the thought that his dad might appreciate his existence. All he had ever wanted was to be acknowledged by his father, and it was finally happening. He considered how all he had to do was sell himself and he'd be worth something. Maybe having a nice and safe home was something worth working for, with a father who loved him and a warm place to feel secure. 

He laid back down and closed his eyes. He didn't like selling himself for his parents, but he was just now realizing something- his parents, if anyone, would know that he was less than a person unworthy of affection. Of course they would sell him. That's what his only proper use was.  
Hope rose in his heart as he realized quickly that the better he did, the more they would love him. His dad was happy with him for letting that stranger use him.  
His dad showing any other emotion than discontent made Frank hungry for more. He just wanted to make his father happy. And now he had a way to do that.

He rolled over as he realized he had school the next day. He still felt really stiff everywhere. At least the drug had worn off- though it left each of his muscles sore. Frank was saddened by the fact that the pain was a necessary prerequisite to have parents that were content with his existence. 'Whatever,' he thought at he closed his eyes and breathed his warm breaths, 'all families are different.'  
\------------------------------------------  
The next day at school, they were discussing some book in English. It was called 'Where The Red Fern Grows'. The English class had been assigned a few chapters over the weekend and Mrs. Smith was discussing them with the class.  
"Mr. Bryar," she asked playfully, "what does Billy find that only makes him want a coonhound even more?"  
"Uhhhh... Like a magazine or something?" Bob answers.  
"Yes! And....can anyone tell us why?"  
She scans the class of raised hands and her eyes float over to Frank. He had his head down, eyes not visible. He was twisting his sleeves around subtly. She was worriedly curious in Frank. He seemed to always be ready to cry to her. She paused and then asked him, "Frank?"  
He looked up, surprised to be called on when he was avoiding her eye contact so well.  
"There was an... An ad in the magazine for dogs," he answered almost inaudibly, looking down. Mrs. Smith sighed and smiled slightly, attempting to regain eye contact. "That's right," she offered. He continued to look down. Reading him, he really seemed to have something wrong, but it was hard to do so since he always averted his eyes and stayed quiet. He wasn't apathetic-He was just... Worried, it seemed. Always preoccupied. She decided she'd ask him to stay after and talk. She moved on and continued to ask the class questions.

Frank breathed out in relief when her eyes were off of him. He didn't like being observed. He thought back to when he had sped-read the due chapters that morning. He was 'busy' all weekend and hadn't gotten around to doing his homework. He couldn't stay home though. It might have made his parents mad. He couldn't do that. He was just getting them to like him. It was easier to just quickly bullshit homework on the bus. Frank was going to be the best son. They wouldn't be able to hate him anymore. It's what he had to do to make a family. 

The bell pulled Frank from his thoughts as it rang, signaling the end of period 5. He grimaced at the thought of moving again. Though the pain had subsided over the time he had had, it still was there. His body was so sore. And all over. He moved his sleeves back up from over his hands and reached to start gathering his things into his backpack. He was leaning over to zip it up when he heard a voice say, "um, Frank? Can I talk to you?" He turned to see his teacher looking at him inquisitively. He nodded and pulled his bag up around his arms as he stood and turned to face her. 

A few students were chatting as they left.  
"How are you today, Frank? Did you enjoy the reading?"  
Frank nodded quickly and said, "I'm fine," quietly, looking his teacher in the eye. The door clicked as it closed behind the last of the students. Frank blushed knowing they were alone and took two steps back, averting his eyes to the ground once again.  
"Frank," his teacher began, "is everything alright at home?"  
He nodded slightly and avoided his teacher's eyes some more.  
"I'm a little concerned about your class participation," she continued, partially lying. Frank looked up at her quickly, trying to asses her. She internally cheered for getting his attention. She didn't actually care about that. She just wanted to see what she could find out.  
"It would be nice if you could try to speak more in class when you know the answers," she continued, Frank still searching her gaze.  
He looked terrified as he asked, "Are you gonna call my parents?"  
Mrs. Smith was surprised. That's the most pronounced she had ever heard him talk.  
"N-no...," she started, "I just worry about your lack of participation."  
Frank paused then restated, "P...please don't tell my parents," he said more quietly, but still lacing his statement with urgency. 

The teacher was taken completely aback. Not only had Frank spoken again but he seemed so frightened by something she couldn't understand. He looked toward her expectingly. She sighed, "No, I won't have to call them."

Frank blushed and breathed out in relief, "Thank you."  
Mrs. Smith looked at him suspiciously and realized she should let him leave. She didn't want to, though. She wanted to help him as something was clearly wrong.  
"Frank, I need you to tell me if you're not okay. Not just today. Anytime. Alright?"

He quickly answered, "I'm okay. I promise," with a weak smile. "I should going to math. I'll see you tomorrow." He looked to her waiting for a response.

"Okay. Bye Frank," she said. He nodded quickly and made his way out of the classroom. Mrs. Smith watched as he walked out with a slight limp. She winced and wondered what had happened. The teacher might have called his parents but Frank seemed absolutely opposed to that. She sighed, knowing that if she did no trust would be built. Frank had to come to her. She walked back to her desk in thought as the late bell rang out again. She had a growing in her gut that told her that something was really wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took kinda long. Finals.


	6. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2 months ahead)

Frank tightly gripped the sheets beneath him as the large man above him slammed into his rear once again. He couldn't see; the man had him blindfolded. He was paranoid about Frank remembering his face or reporting him. He didn't realize that to Frank they were all the same. He had been sold to so many people by now that everything was a blur. The last thing the boy would consider would be telling someone. The man directly hit Frank's prostate, making him groan loudly. "Yeah, give it to me," Frank whined out, making the man moan in agreement. 

Frank had learned from the two months that he had been sold around for sex. If he didn't put up a fight, things went a lot smoother. He hated being drugged as it only added more confusion to the memories. The only downside was that now he remembered things a lot more clearly. 

The man moved Frank as he pushed in faster. Frank moaned out in a loud rhythm as his prostate was tapped repeatedly. He had learned quickly that being vocal often went rewarded. He acted even fussier when the man gripped his own member and pumped it quickly. Though, Frank might as well be a professional actor by now. He wasn't nearly as close as he was letting on. It was just part of the act. 

"Touch me," he panted desperately. This was enough to push the man over the edge and spill his cum into the young body. Frank screamed as he pretended to cum too, sweating against the blindfold. The man slowly pulled out and stepped back. "Fuck," he grunted. In a daze, he looked at the child as Frank rolled over slowly, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows.

Frank pulled the sheets up around his bottom half and grinned through the cloth on his face, turning his head to about where he estimated the man was. He ran a hand through his hair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Wanna keep me the whole night?" he purred, "We have so much left to do." He made more money if he got the customers to keep him the whole night. They rarely used him significantly more, anyway. That didn't matter to him anymore, though. Frank's main effort was in making his dad proud of him. He could do that by being more useful, making more money. 

"Mmm, I would but I've got to get up early tomorrow," the man breathed out tiredly. Frank leaned forward and stroked the man's chest lightly and whispered, "Please? Don't you want to wake up next to me?" The man sighed as he debated this in his mind. Frank licked his lips and brought his hand up to move the cloth over his eyes. He revealed one lustful eye and quirked his eyebrow at the man, pouting slightly. At this, the man decidedly contained himself and quickly stood against the strong temptation.

Frank frowned as the man leaned over to collect his clothes and suddenly felt very self-conscious. The fake personality he had been displaying was starting to fade as he realized he had been rejected. Was he not good enough? He just wasn't trying hard enough. He told himself he had to convince this man-for his father. He had to make his father happy. 

More urgently this time, he leaned and rubbed the man's back. "I'll miss you tonight. Are you sure?" he asked, attempting to sound seductive, his voice giving way to the ploy, slightly more desperate. The man aggressively reached back and pushed Frank down onto the bed then turned back around. "That's enough for tonight, slut."

Disappointed, Frank hunched in the bed and slid out from the side. He picked his clothes up from the floor and scuffled into the bathroom. He closed the door and breathed, half relieved and half panicked. What would his dad say? He would know that Frank hadn't tried his best to make the customer stay. He let out a sob as warm tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt so worthless after these nights ended. He knew how to pretend to love being objectified very well, but in reality, he felt absolutely terrible. 

He washed the cum off his rear and legs in the sink and put on his clothes. After he pulled his shirt on he looked into the mirror at his red eyes. He sighed as he washed his face with cold water and attempted to hide his crying. He chose not to think about it now and turned the running water off. His thin figure made its way out the door. 

When he reentered the bedroom the man was gone. Good thing they got paid upfront now. He looked at the time on the nightstand clock and read '2:57'. Nearly 3 a.m. He inwardly died thinking about school the next day. At least it would be a Friday. He decided to start heading home. 

He walked down the dim hallway and pulled his small jacket from the coatrack. It was the same one he'd had since age 10. It was a good thing he never really grew. Without hesitation, he rushed out the door into the cold night. He'd been expected to walk home if he hadn't stayed the entire night. It was only a couple blocks, at least. 

He pulled his hood over as he realized it was snowing. There were already about two inches on the ground and he could feel the sides of his converse getting wet as he walked. He shivered, begging his body for more warmth and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. He had gotten very thin over these past two months. Though he ate, he ate the absolute minimal amount for sustainability. He never really had an appetite anymore. 

The street lights dimly lit a few spots along the town's sidewalks and he calmed a little bit. Though it was painfully cold, the white of the snow felt oddly serene and pure. He thought back to when he was a kid. He'd play outside in the winter all the time. He had a feeling that time had come to a close and was considered the past now. He sighed in the cold and felt his throat reacting to the cold. He looked up while passing under a lamppost and watched a flake fall on the tip of his nose in the yellow light. Smiling sadly, he felt it melt against his relative heat. He missed how simple life used to be. 

Breaking the silence, he heard a car drive up behind him on the vacant streets and tried to look casual. As it neared him he heard the small yelp of a police siren and saw blinking red and blue lights. His eyes widened and he panicked. He looked towards the ground and kept walking as the car slowed and drove beside him. He looked towards he car with big eyes and halted walking. The car also stopped. 

"Hey, kid. What're you doing out this late?" the officer asked suspiciously. Frank continued to stare at him with a panicked expression. He didn't know what to say. 'Oh, don't worry officer. I'm just walking home from a hook-up. Gotta get home on a school night'.

He opened his mouth to speak to the awaiting man. "U-Um..." he stuttered, "I saw the snow and decided to take a walk." The man looked at him, partially in confusion and partially in shock. "At 3 a.m.?" the man asked. That was only the beginning of the problem to him. Frank couldn't think of anything else to say and just slowly nodded. He hoped he was being convincing. 

The man spoke again, "You shouldn't be out here. It's dangerous. And cold." Frank didn't know how to respond. The snow continued to fall around them as they stared at each other in silence. "I-I was heading home anyway," Frank stated, hoping that would get the man away. "Let me drive you home," the officer said imperatively, "It's not safe out here." 

Frank stood, unsure. The officer leaned over and popped the passenger's door open as Frank took two steps back. "Don't worry," the man spoke, "you're not in trouble." Frank slowly stepped into the car and was immediately met with warmth. He was inwardly thankful though he refused to lower his guard. He sat down in the seat and fastened his belt quickly, avoiding eye contact as he shoved his hands into his pockets. The officer closed the window and put switched the car from park into drive.

The car was filled with warmth but Frank still felt on edge, given the situation. "41 North Road," he said quickly and quietly. The officer heard him and began to drive off towards the address. The police noticed Frank's stiffness and decided to break the silence. "I'm officer Robinson," he said gently, "what's your name, bud?" "Frank. Iero," the boy said quietly as they rode along the whitening road. 

"Well," the officer continued, "I'm glad I caught you on your way home. It sure is cold out tonight." Frank nodded slightly and hoped the officer wouldn't inquire much more. "You walked quite the distance, Frank," the officer added, "What were you doing up so late on a school night anyway? Don't your parents have a bedtime for you?"

Frank's heart sped up a bit as he was interrogated. "Yeah," he answered, trying to sound normal, "they didn't know I was out."  
"It's good to let adults know what you're doing. We're on your side, remember." Frank nodded and suddenly felt the impulse to cry and tell this cop everything. He felt so broken lately. He hadn't stopped to consider anything in a while. These last months had gone so fast. He was struggling to keep up with school while being sold every other night to different strangers. He hated the way he was treated. No matter how much he denied it to himself as a means of survival, he hated being an object. 

He breathed out and told himself to calm down. Anyway, his dad seemed to be beginning to like him. He would always tell Frank after a night out how he was finally worth something in cash. He still hit him, but that was only when Frank deserved it. Frank knew he was less than a person, anyway, and just hoped he could somehow trick his parents into loving him. All he needed was security. And he was willing to earn it. 

He felt the tears that were building in his throat begin to fade away as he saw they were nearing his house. The officer hummed quietly as they drove. Frank somewhat wished he had a nice guy like this cop for a father. But his hopes died quickly as he realized how repulsed anyone would be by what he's done. He felt so dirty, so vile. He was gross. He was less than human. 

The car stopped outside his house and the officer spoke, "You have a nice night, Frank. And if you ever need anything, just call my number." The man handed Frank a small card with writing on it and Frank snatched it and shoved it into his coat. "Thank you," he squeaked as he quickly made his way out of the car. He closed the door and begin to make his way to his front door before he looked behind him one last time. The car was watching him as he made his way to the house. 

Frank blushed and headed up the front stairs quickly. As he closed the door behind him, he finally heard the car drive off. He sighed out in relief and began to take his jacket off. As he placed it on the coatrack, he heard a voice speak from the living room, "Glad to see you made it home." He turned to see his father in the chair with his legs folded, reading the paper. Frank nodded and stood still, waiting to be addressed once more. 

"Did he uh... drive you home?" his dad asked. Frank shook his head and spoke, "Some cop saw me walking home and wanted to drive me." Frank's dad shifted in surprise, "You didn't say anything about... where you were at, right?" He stared hard through Frank, who rapidly nodded his head in response. His dad leaned back, still somewhat tense, "Good," he breathed out.

Frank stood there, watching his father cautiously, waiting to be addressed again. "Um..." he began, unsure, "do you need anything else?" He shifted from one foot to the other nervously. His dad put the paper down on the small table beside the armchair. Frank's heart sunk as he saw a glass of amber-colored liquid on the table as well. His dad was always less patient when he was drinking. His pulse quickened and he could hear it in his neck as his dad rose to his feet and took slow steps towards him. 

"You know," his dad said, looking at the Frank, "you have been really helping out with your...job." Frank felt his heart rise at the small comment of praise but still stood cautiously. His father moved in front of him and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder, causing Frank to stumble back slightly. They stared at each other, Frank wide-eyed and his father knowingly. "Those pictures we took last week are selling really well, too." Frank nodded, keeping his eyes on his dad. 

He felt his dad's hand tighten its grip around his small shoulder as his dad spoke more harshly than before, "What we have going on is...good, yeah?" Frank nodded, unsure. He breathed in sharply when the hold on him grew even tighter. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to what we have, yes?" Frank realized his dad thought he might try to tell someone like the cop who drove him home something about the twisted situation he was in. Frank could only nod, quicker this time, holding his breath. He hoped that this slight breech of trust wouldn't mean a backwards step in the growing relationship he was trying to build with his parents.

"So, we wouldn't want to tell anyone something that they wouldn't understand, correct?" Again, Frank agreed. Suddenly moving his hand down to Frank's crotch, his father gripped tightly and squeezed, making Frank whimper slightly, closing his eyes. "Better be off to bed then, yes?" Frank squeezed his eyes and nodded yet again, begging in his mind for the end of this encounter. "Good boy," his father said, holding him a moment more before moving away. Feeling fear drain out of him, Frank quickly made his way to his room and shut the door, breathing a sigh of relief once secluded. This had been one of the less physical nights post-hookup. Frank thought to when his dad would hit him. And thought to when he would...

Frank shut it all out from his mind and plopped into his bed. He felt the familiar tiredness after a night out begin to sweep him into a black sleep. As he was lulled into unconsciousness, he heard the voice repeat in his mind, "Good boy." He smiled slightly in his sleep. He was good. He was doing the right thing. Everything was where it was supposed to be. He felt safe, he felt safe, he felt safe. Repeating this false statement as true is what Frank needed to be pulled into sleep once again. It made him feel in control. It gave him stability in this completely unstable situation.


	7. Photographs

Frank squinted awake at his alarm clock. He had gotten only 3 hours of sleep. He closed his eyes and groaned as he forced himself out of bed and shuffled through the cold darkness of his room, turning the beeping device off. He held himself through his long sleeved shirt and walked to his dresser. He grabbed a random shirt, pants, and found a hoodie on the floor. Perfect.

He almost fell asleep as he made his way to the bathroom, the harsh cold being the only thing to keep him awake. He wasn't allowed to use the heat. Warmth is not something he could expect in this house anyway.

Making his way into the bathroom, Frank quickly flipped on the lights and groaned at the brightness, squeezing his eyelids as much as possible. Slowly opening them, he squinted his way to the sink. 

He turned the faucet on and looked at himself in the mirror's reflection. His hair looked messy and clearly needed to be washed. He stared right at himself and scrunched his face up in distaste. He stuck his tongue out at the reflection which quickly turned into a yawn. He knew he should take a shower. 

He looked down at yesterday's outfit and immediately wanted to shed it entirely, as if doing so would get rid of the memories. He lethargically pulled the clothes off and, avoiding his reflection, stepped in the shower. 

After turning on the shower, he found himself plopping down and letting the water run over him. He lacked any remote amount of energy necessary for a shower. So he just held his knees, sitting, and tried not to fall asleep under the warm downpour of the water.  
...Close enough. 

After about 3 minutes, he dragged himself out of the shower and sighed as he realized he had to get dry. Honestly, it was far beyond what he could handle right now. But, wishing to avoid becoming cold, he quickly toweled off, drying his hair as best as he could, and threw his clothes on, leaving the hood up as it fell on his head. Though the water woke him up a bit, Frank yawned again. Even with the many nights he stayed up late, his body never seemed to get used to it. He just hoped it wouldn't stunt his growth too badly.

Sighing, he made his way out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. His parents weren't awake yet. He tried to avoid them completely in the mornings. Alone in the kitchen, Frank stared at the cupboards with half lidded eyes. After about 7 minutes of this, he half-heartedly grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter. He didn't bother packing lunch. He rarely ate during lunch time, and even if he did, the school gave poor kids like him free lunch. Frank remembered this and sarcastically thought, 'score'. If only gross cafeteria food could outweigh all of the baggage that came with having no money. 

Holding the apple, he shuffled into the living room towards the door. Picking up his bag off the floor and stomping his shoes on, he turned to look at the dim yellowing walls behind him. "Have a good day," he said quietly to himself, "I love you!" Staring at the empty hall a moment more as if expecting something, Frank soon turned back towards the door and made his way out the house.

He was immediately met with a brisk morning air which smacked him right in the face. He buried the bottom of his face in his sweatshirt and made his way down the stairs, towards the bus stop at the end of the steet. The bus came by around 6:45. Being slow this morning and having took a shower, Frank would make it just in time. 

As he approached the corner, he saw all the other deathly tired kids waiting for the bus. Last day of the week, he thought inwardly. Thank God. 

Upon closer examination, Frank saw another boy talking to Bob. He recognized him as a kid in their grade named Matt. Matt was grinning at something on his phone as Bob stared wide-eyes at the screen beside him. 

Frank approached them and got close without them noticing. "Hey," he spoke, both of them snapping their heads up, Matt quickly covering his phone. "Umm... Hey Frank!" Bob exclaimed, blushing. Matt just looked smug. "Yeah, hey Frank," Matt giggled, "wanna see something cool?" 

Frank stood, opting out of response, as Matt showed him what he had been showing Bob. Frank's eyes widened as he saw a pornographic image of a woman being fucked by a large man. He blushed furiously as Matt laughed. He began scrolling and said, "Look, there are ones of two girls, too." Frank nervously nodded as he looked away from the phone and at Matt's face, who was grinning mischievously. He was slightly embarrassed at how little Matt must have actually known about sex. Frank felt sorry for him for a moment before considering that maybe he himself just knew a little too much. 

They were all pulled from what they were doing as the bus pulled up to the curb. As they sat down, Matt continued to pester Bob, as Frank inconspicuously burrowed into the corner of a seat. He hoped to sleep a bit to avoid being completely dead in class. He felt guilty for leaving Bob to deal with Matt, but he was really tired. Bob gave Frank a quick pleading look before he closed his eyes, only to get an "ok" sign in response. Bob glared at Frank as he drifted off, grinning, in the cushiony bus seat. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

"Alright class," Mrs. Smith began, "who can tell me why Johnny and Pony had to flee?" The class was reading "The Outsiders" now. Almost every hand in the class rose in the air. Almost.

The teacher's eyes were naturally drawn to the back of the classroom, where Frank sat, hood up, with his face down on the desk. He would have gone unnoticed if she wasn't used to looking for him. She watched the still lump of fabric on the desk and sighed.

She was hoping that Frank would have gotten better or at least come to her for help. So far, he seemed to only get worse. She was the only one who cared to notice the weight loss of the child and how tired he appeared to be all the time. She occasionally would have him stay after and hope that he revealed something, anything that led her on. All that had come out of the conversations had been a confirmation that he was steadily declining in his state of health; both mental and physical. The teacher was increasingly concerned. She just didn't know how to stop it. 

"Um...Frank?" The lump did not move. The class moved their attention to where Frank was sleeping silently at his desk. There was silence aside from a light murmuring within the room as the teacher made her way to his desk. "Frank," she stated more firmly as she gently rubbed his back.

In his sleep, Frank felt the gentle touch of hands moving down his back and subconsciously turned into the person he did when being rented. He felt himself loosen into the touch as the hand stayed on his back. "Frank....Babe..," the teacher asked cautiously, not knowing what she had and would trigger. Unconscious, Frank used what he felt and heard to infer that he was probably at a hook-up or with his dad. The act he put on wasn't too different between the two. And so at this familiar pet name and touch, Frank let out an obscene moan, long and pitching upwards as it went on. Mrs. Smith's eyes widened and a few students, taken aback, gasped as the talking slightly grew in volume.

More urgently, the teacher repeated, "Frank. Dear..," leaning closer to his ear and holding her hand to his spine. Frank felt the warmth of breath grow closer and the hand press more firmly onto his back. At this, he let out a breathy sigh in his sleep. "Yeah," he whined out, halfheartedly, as he turned his head in his sleep. "Don't hit me, dad," he continued, voice trailing off, thoughts mixing all over the place. This time, a few muffled giggles erupted from the classroom. The teacher, somewhat at a loss, tapped him more urgently. Frank felt this and became slightly confused at the gesture. It wasn't sexual, like it would be with a customer, but it was too gentle to be his dad at the same time. He slowly woke up and became self-aware, realizing he had been asleep. He slowly lifted his head and was confused to be sitting. He furrowed his eyebrows, eyes still closed, as the classroom watched him, Frank just wondering why he was not laying down in a bed. He turned his head toward the hand which was touching him and slowly squinted his eyes open against the bright lights of the school room. His head whirled and his heart sank as he was met with his teacher's face, staring intently at him. He quickly turned to see the entire class was looking at him.

With wide eyes, Frank blushed furiously as the class burst out in laughter. He could not recall what he had muttered in his sleep, but he was still embarrassed at being caught sleeping in class. As the teacher attempted to silence the class room, taken aback herself, Frank looked down at the desk, mortified, as his face glowed with warm color. As the class began to scatter in different discussion, the teacher leaned close to Frank and said, "We need to chat after class." Frank sighed but couldn't bring himself to cry. His eyes were too tired for crying.

The bell rang out and all in the class made their way to the door as Frank sat still at his desk, desperately trying to recall what he might have said while unconscious. Noise fluttered out of the room until the door clicked shut and he knew he was alone with his teacher. He averted his eye contact from her briefly before turning towards her, now standing, still not meeting her eyes. "I-I....Um...I'm sorry for sleeping in class. I w-was... tired... and..."

"Frank," his teacher cut him off, "I'm not angry with you. I think we both know that there's something important that you're keeping to yourself. Something that is clearly interrupting your school work, sleep and, correct me if I'm wrong...health." Frank slumped even further, keeping his face down and towards the ground. He felt, in this moment, how easy it would be to admit everything. He had someone listening. All the time he needed to get it out. But he had a long list of apprehensions. He did not feel like a human. Why did he deserve a better life? He has been led to believe that he was trash that people had to be tricked into thinking was worth anything. Plus, what if she didn't believe him? Or, what if she was so disgusted by the things he described that she would never think of even looking at him ever again? He felt so dirty. He didn't want to feel dirty anymore. He felt his face involuntarily crease and he knew he couldn't help but cry. He sniffed as tears slipped down his face.

"Frank?" his teacher asked quietly, feeling hopeful that she would get something out of him. She approached him slowly, now standing about 6 feet in front of him. Frank screamed in his head to shut up. No, wait, this was his chance, right? But what would his dad say. His dad loved him now, right? He thought back to his dad beating him, touching him. Don't tell...don't tell...This only made him cry harder. He let out louder sobs as he completely unraveled in front of his teacher. His dad would be so disappointed. Nobody would love him. Nobody did love him. "N-nobody loves m-e," Frank choked out in sobs. He collapsed to the ground, hiding his face, as he let this out. It was like breaking down a brick wall. 

His teacher looked on, threatening to start crying herself. She spoke in an encouraging tone, "Your parents love you, Frank. Why would you say that?" This only made him cry harder. He felt so vulnerable in front of his teacher. It was a feeling he resented. He wanted to scream at how much what she said wasn't true. At how much he wanted it to be true. There was just something stopping him. He was ashamed of what he did and didn't know if he trusted his teacher enough to tell her. Though, he could. There was a small thought in his mind, a small voice telling him to just say what was really wrong.

Frank recognized this vague little voice and pondered it. He felt it building in velocity. His tears began to slow down slightly as he really thought about it. It could be so easy to just say it. Say any of it. He knew that any fraction of what was happening would get him immediately pulled from his house. He was apprehensive only because he felt he didn't deserve salvation. Likewise, he didn't want to acknowledge that those terrible things had become a part of him. Not admitting there was a problem was a coping mechanism.

Yet, even with all of this, Frank could still see how easy it would be. He wanted to say it. He could feel the sentence in his throat. 'They sell me,' he thought to himself. Just...say it. 'They. Sell. Me'. Frank took a deep breath and psyched himself up. Say it. The voice had become prominent in his mind now. Say. It. He breathed, silence in the room. Was he doing this? He was. He felt an urgency in his mind now. Looking towards the ground, he slightly opened his mouth to speak-

"You have to tell us adults what's wrong, Frank. Remember; we're on your side."

Frank bit his tongue and quickly remembered the night before. The cop had said the same thing to him. He thought of what his dad had said, what his dad had done. If only he knew how close Frank had been to exposing him. Frank quickly swallowed anything he was about to say and stopped crying. He felt his dad's hand on his shoulder. 'Don't ruin it,' he thought. He felt the hand on his jeans. 'Don't. Ruin. It.' Frank picked his head up suddenly and stood up as naturally as he could manage. His teacher was taken aback at how he had seemed to shut his emotions off so swiftly. She looked to him, awaiting a response. "You're right. I was being silly. I'll go to bed earlier. Thank you for helping." Frank offered a manic looking smile at his teacher, attempting to appear genuine. She didn't know what to say. "I really should be getting to math now," he suggested. "U-uhm, yes...," she responded unsurely. Frank used this as a cue to sling his backpack over his shoulder. Nodding at his teacher with a fake smile, he walked out of the room fast, his eyes still red from crying. Mrs. Smith was left without words. She felt so close. She knew there was something Frank wasn't saying. She just had to wait for him to be ready to say it.

She wondered if she had heard his sleepy muttering correctly. And if she did, was it relevant? She was only embarrassed for him as he seemed to be dreaming about something a little explicit. That is, until he unconsciously asked his dad not to hit him. She thought about this. She saw the bruises he sometimes wore on his face. It didn't make sense that such a quiet child would be getting into that many fights. She bit her lip. She knew how important it was to Frank not to call home. Was that fear rational? Hmmm...She sighed. Frank had to be ready. That was the only way this would be solved correctly. She just had to wait. She told herself, 'Just give it a few more months.' She knew he would have to come to someone eventually. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

The bell rang to signal the end of math and the beginning of lunch. Frank made his way out of the room and waited by the door for Bob. When Bob emerged and saw Frank he smiled. "Hey. Are you alright?" Frank nodded quickly and smiled back. They chatted moderately as they arrived at the cafeteria. "Did you bring a lunch?" Bob asked him. Frank shook his head, "Nah. If I were to get hungry I could just get food from the school." Bob looked serious as he said calmly, "Maybe you should get some today, yeah? You're getting too skinny on me." Frank blushed as he was now aware that his friend had noticed his weight loss-and cared enough to address it. "Um.. yeah. I'll wait in line. Just find us a good seat." Bob smiled, pleased he had gotten through to Frank and made his way into the lunchroom.

Frank emerged from the lunch line with a wrapped sandwich in his hand and a bottle of orange juice. He wasn't really hungry, but he would make himself eat. He didn't like that his weight loss had been noticeable.

He peered around the room, searching for Bob. He spotted him at a table, Matt next to him. He chuckled slightly, knowing what Matt had been so amused by, seeing that they were indeed looking at his phone again. A few other boys were behind Matt, onlooking as well. All of them were laughing. Very mature, Frank thought. Bob, though, looked mortified again. This only made Frank smile. He strode over, all of the boys' eyes glued to the screen, and tried to appear unsuspecting. He stood across from all of them, "Hey, guys. What's going on?" They all looked up suddenly. Bob looked absolutely at a loss for words as the rest of the guys burst out in laughter. Frank slightly smiled and asked, "What's so funny?" The laughing started dying down as Matt smirked at Frank, "I dunno, Frankie. Why don't you tell us?" Giggles erupted from the small group as Frank grew a bit confused.

"Should I know something?" he asked. Matt spoke once again, "It's more of an omission thing...Snow White."

Laughing grew again as Frank's heart dropped to his feet. Holy. Fucking. Shit. His life was absolutely over. The smile dropped off his face and he went absolutely pale. Matt identified this as embarrassment and underestimated how harmful it really was. "You never mentioned what a nice butt you have, Frank," He turned the phone to reveal the photos that Frank had feared they found. They were photos his father had taken to sell to some guy. They had ended up on some random porn site, which had Matt fatefully found. He felt fresh tears welling up in his eyes as he looked to Bob. Bob looked absolutely shocked. Frank felt so disgusting. "I-I..," Frank stuttered. As the boys laughed once more, Bob just solemnly shook his head. Frank whispered, "I'm sorry," before he dropped the food he had gotten onto the table and ran from the room to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(  
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> So, I'm gonna be away for a while, like three weeks, without much access to a computer. So...savor it? idk. I'm gonna try to write really fast or at least wrap things up a little bit. I may post three weeks worth of stuff before I leave, but I don't want the writing to be shitty either. But if that happens, now you know that a little bit of rationing may be necessary. Thnx~


	8. Blurry

It was 6:47 p.m. Frank was sitting on a window sill in his living room staring blankly through the glass. He felt his whole world was crumbling around him. The one place he could go to feel normal everyday had been ripped out from under him. A place where he could pretend that everything was okay and walk along side normal kids was now a desolate place where he was an outsider. His one friend knew the horrible truth now. He had nothing. He felt alone again.

It was almost as if connecting the two parts of his life made the worse half more realistic. In the mornings he could convince himself it had just been a dream. All of it had just been one terrible nightmare. His brain had dissociated to keep him safe from reality. He felt numb as the stinging truth closed in on him from all sides. Frank's breathing became shaky as he thought everything over. What he did was part of him now. He would never forget everything that had happened in the last few months, everything that had happened in his life. His dad, his customers, what they left on the Internet, everything. 

He felt himself shudder and begin to cry. As the memories swarmed him the crying turned into erratic sobbing. Nothing was left. His eyes were shut harshly as all the anger poured out of him. All the sadness. All the things he could never get back. He usually tried to keep it in because he knew that crying didn't solve anything and only made his parents mad at him- but this time he just couldn't keep it in. All he wanted was to make his dad happy. All he wanted was his love. He was so unlovable as a person that even the people that chose to bring him into the world wanted him to suffer. He suffered so much. He was just tired of it. He just wanted to sleep. And never wake up. 

Frank was crying so hard that he didn't notice the front door opening and closing as his father came in or the way his name was shouted at him as his attention tried to be caught. Through his numbness all he felt was a harsh slap to the face and the mass of his body falling to the ground all at once. His dad's loud barks were half-registered. "You'll fuck your face up"... "You have an appointment in 30 minutes"...

All Frank could process was the hysteria that was bursting through him. He couldn't say anything to his father except for "I love you." He was way past being able to control it at all. He could feel everything at once yet nothing at all. It wasn't even a conscious sort of crumbling, but instead just the avalanche of what had been building up all this time. It was a whole range of emotion all happening at once. 

It was nothing short of a soul-crushing scene. As his father continued to aim himself and his words at his son, all Frank could do was feel he deserved it. No matter what was yelled at him, he could only gasp out "I'm sorry. I love you." The longer he cried, the more ashamed he felt of himself. The more his dad hit him, the more he apologized. The more sorry he felt, the more he cried. 

He couldn't stop crying. His dad didn't stop yelling. It was all too much. He felt things as they happened but couldn't register, only receive. The hits that fell on his face. The kicks that met his torso. The final blow that knocked him unconscious. The finger pushing a pill down his throat as his brain attempted to regain consciousness. The feeling of tears drying on his face as his brain dissociated itself and mixed the chemicals in his brain with the ones in the pill. 

The hands that carried him somewhere foreign once again. 

The hands that undressed him once again. 

The hands that felt him once again. 

It was hard to keep up from Frank's point of view. So much was going on in his head that it all just seemed to shut off. He could observe but no longer process. Sure, he knew he was being sold. He saw the gross man above him violating him. He smelled the smell of sweat and heard blurred voices. There was a blurriness brought on by the drugs and he felt it everywhere. He knew that soon there'd be pain. He was able to make out the room he was in. It was yellowing and barren, probably some motel. The man was much larger than him. His own body was half exposed on the upper half. He felt vague things touch him, but mostly he could only feel the emptiness where things once were within himself. He felt so much loss within himself. All he could feel was loss. His dad didn't like him, didn't love him, and he never would. He felt the loss of his hope. It was gone. Anything that had been keeping him alive was gone at this point. He couldn't survive anymore. He couldn't live. He knew his chance at normality was lost. 

He sensed a sudden loss of the impeding hotness all over him. The feeling of violation disappeared too abruptly. He couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or not. All he saw were shaped colors, not any decipherable surroundings. He heard loud pangs of sound that sounded like a man's voice yelling. Banging. It wasn't the man from before. It was different. There was the distant ringing of something. His ears? No, it sounded like police sirens. 

Frank tried to lift his head up but he couldn't feel or control any part of his body. There seemed to be more sound now than before. In the room there was a rush of other people. They came in quickly and looked blue. Frank's head felt very heavy as did his eyes. He tried to move again but couldn't. Wait, he was moving. Someone was carrying him. He felt them bring a blanket around him to cover his torso. All he could think about was how this wasn't how things usually went at appointments. Instead of laying on a bed, now he was laying on a stretcher. There were people with masks and gloves shining lights in his eyes and asking him things. He could only blink and attempt to focus his watery eyes. He was becoming impossibly overwhelmed. 

He wanted to ask so many things. He tried to say something. He thought of his dad and what he wanted him to know. 'I love you," he tried to get out. It was only a choked noise. He felt tears still streaming out of his eyes as he felt only overstimulation around him. His vision became even more blurred as his heavy eyes coaxed him to sleep. He hoped he never came out of it.   
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Black. It was all black. Frank's subconscious began to stir as he felt the familiar precipitation of consciousness fall on his toes. And then his torso. Until it dripped on his neck, his eyes-

Frank woke up abruptly and saw white. Everything was so clean. He was in bed. He sat up and breathed. He was alive? Good to know...  
...  
Though in his life there were plenty of gaps in his memory, nothing had ever been as bad as this. His wrist had a paper bracelet wrapped around it and his bed had metal bars on the sides. He touched the green light material of the bracelet between his fingers, looking down and trying to think. Hospital? What day was it? Confusion turned to fear as he realized he didn't know how he ended up here at all. He doubted his dad would have arranged this. He began to panic. He would be in so much trouble if he somehow arranged for someone else to find out. He looked up from his wrist and saw that the door was open. If he could just escape, he could probably find a way home. He couldn't be too far. And then he could explain to his dad that-

"Hello, Frank." His thoughts stopped short as he looked to the side with wide eyes to see a woman he didn't recognize sitting on a chair with a notepad. His breathing was fast as he tried to figure out how to approach this. He swallowed and spoke, "Hi."  
He didn't take his eyes off her as she smiled at him. His face remained confused and flatly concerned. 

"I'm Clara. I'm from CPS. That stands for Child Protective Services. I was called in to handle your case. Sorry if I startled you, but I thought it'd be good to help you understand sooner rather than later so you didn't have to be confused for very long." She paused. "How do you feel?"

Frank still didn't know who this was really, but she said she was going to explain. How did he feel? "I'm... I don't know..." Frank answered. 

Clara nodded understandingly, "That's completely fine. I'm guessing you want to be filled in, yes? First, I need to ask you how much you remember."

Frank blinked and thought hard. "Well, last thing I remember... I was with a custom..." he looked up cautiously at Clara. He wasn't sure how much she knew. He started again, "I don't remember much before my dad..." Again he trailed off, this time looking down. His eyes began to water. He started to cry again, covering his face with his hands. Clara waited patiently. 

He cried for a bit before he could stop. After a good 3 minutes, he wiped his eyes. Still looking down, he spoke, "I don't... Want to remember anything." He squeezed his eyes tight and tried his best to keep it together. 

The woman nodded and sighed. "I completely understand." Frank nodded, still looking away. He felt absolutely broken everywhere. 

Clara attempted again to set things in motion.

"Let's just start from the beginning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that took a WHILE. Thought I abandoned it? Well you's wrong. And guess where it's gonna go? Uphill? .... I'd say... Likely.


	9. Fast Forward

A bright buzzing was ringing through a dark room as the morning air cautiously warmed. Frank groaned as he rolled over and hit it to turn it off. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the blankets around him before psyching himself to rip them off all at once. He was hit with the cold air around him and felt like death as he made his way over to the light to turn it on. The bright light burned his eyes and he squeezed them shut. He made his way over to the mirror in his room and looked at his own reflection.

He was taller now. Not by much. He had grown only 6 inches over the past 3 years. His hair was different too. It had been cut short but it was overgrown now, like a neglected flower bed wildly plagued by weeds. He groggily got dressed in a dark color scheme with only tiredness clouding his mind. Today was his first day at a new school. Though, he was starting a bit late. It was already October 6th. His last foster home which had held him for three months, beginning at the start fo summer, had decided he wasn't the right fit for their family. Frank didn't mind much. He was used to the instability by now. Plus, driving in yesterday, Belleville, New Jersey seemed pretty nice. Well... Nice for NJ. 

Frank had his clothes on now and began to lace up his high top converse that had fit him since the age of 14. He remembered the family that had bought them for him. They were from Seaside Heights. They seemed like they were going to work out. The mother had gushed over how cute Frank's shortness was and the dad, who had only until then had daughters, was excited to have a new son. They had taken him shopping, making Frank blush as the mother picked out nice shirts and jackets, his new siblings all saying how nice he would look. They bought him something he had always wanted- a guitar- and signed him up for lessons at the community center. They seemed to want to support him, help him, love him. Frank had started to become attached as well, though he tried not to do that. 

Hope was scarce. 

Especially when after 5 months a family who you thought was supposed to come to love you unconditionally, like the psychologist had said they would, drops you as soon as they find things they find to be unforgivable about your past. Frank remembered that day. His new father had found one of Frank's old "live shows" which had been recorded and he was on the phone with CPS within minutes. His "parents" had told them that he was obviously dangerous to have around. They didn't want him influencing their sweet daughters or... Something worse. Frank had been immediately removed to some other place within the state and the vault that held any hope inside his chest was robbed once again. An investigation to remove the content they found online started up again, but they could never completely get rid of it. It was everywhere. His past was everywhere and he couldn't find anyone to take him with it. He got to keep the clothes and everything they bought him, but he couldn't bring himself to wear them too much- though he did play the guitar obsessively and used the shoes as they were the only ones that fit him anymore. 

That house had been the closest he had come to stability. It had been great. But as he soon learned, life was more a luck of the draw rather than an evenly grounded opportunity. He now knew that getting too close to anyone was bad. Trust was ideal but not realistic. He used to dream of trusting someone, but he had long since given up. 

He grabbed his backpack and made his way downstairs. He got a little bit lost but found the kitchen where his temporary siblings were already eating breakfast. He hadn't met them yet as he had arrived late last night when they were already sleeping. There were two; one was a girl with long dark hair and an olive skin tone, who he had been told was now a senior. The other was a trans boy with lots of freckles and honey colored hair who he heard was 13. The mother of the house was also in the kitchen cooking and the dad was leaning against the counter drinking coffee. He was the first to notice Frank.

"Hey, Frank! Want some waffles?" The two kids looked up and saw who he was talking to. Frank made eye contact with both of them before looking away and responding, "No thanks," with no trace of a smile. He kept trying, "Well, how about some bacon?" Frank shook his head, "I don't eat in the morning," sitting down at the table and putting his head in his folded arms. The father only chuckled and as he brought the mug to his lips again said, "I guess someone's not a morning person."

Frank still felt weird to have the whole family in the kitchen eating together. His father had long been incarcerated for his extreme crimes and his mother for her secondary ones. He would always have to be responsible for himself in the mornings and that's what was now second nature for him. He was also still used to not eating a lot. He didn't have much to have an appetite for. These past years had been nothing but insurmountable instability and glass shards of hope scattered where they landed. The first time he moved into a house, he was still reeling from his past and had been a very difficult kid to deal with. They had put him in therapy and kept him the rest of his seventh grade year. The whole time he cried a lot and never let anyone touch him. He frequently had nightmares that were so realistic that it was hard to tell dreams from reality. He didn't get to know the family very well because of how overwhelmed in general he was, but they had been willing to help. That's why they kept him an entire 6 months before deeming him too difficult and throwing him back into the system. Since then he had been in and out of houses, kicked out for a variety of reasons. He had been to a total of 6 different schools now, this new one being number 7. He knew that no matter how he acted something would turn up eventually that would ruin everything. This family was just as much as a time bomb as all the others. 

Everyone started moving and Frank lifted his head up to see what was happening. "It's 7:00. Now is when we start walking to school," said the girl with the long dark hair. Frank nodded slightly and picked his backpack up onto his shoulder. "Don't forget your lunches!" called his time-bomb mother. She handed each of them a brown paper bag. Frank eyed it and wondered if he'd eat any today. "Bye mom," said the two who were more accustomed to the house, each giving her a light hug. Frank waved at her and turned to go. He met the disapproving glare of his fake father. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Frank shrugged as his new father held up his medication. It was for the spontaneous bouts of anger that sometimes would fall on Frank. He never liked to take it because it made him feel suppressed emotionally. He sighed and popped two pills into his mouth. "Bye," he spoke, turning away again. "Don't forget to stop by the office to get your schedule! They'll get you situated." Frank nodded and held a thumbs up, walking toward the door. The other two followed. 

Once they were out the door, he untucked the capsules from under his tongue and spit them out on the ground. The senior girl was staring disapprovingly. "They prescribe those for a reason, you know." Frank could only shrug his shoulders at this. "I don't like the idea of numbing my brain." She nodded. "Yeah, I've been there." There was a pause before she continued, "I'm Libby, by the way. And this is Harris." Frank turned to look at the younger boy who smiled sunnily at him. "I'm Frank," he said, briefly looking up from the ground. "Yeah, I heard," Libby replied with a slight eye roll. "It's good to have you here." Frank made brief eye contact with her to let her know he heard but then resumed looking at the ground. She knew that she shouldn't try to push anything on him and just let him alone. The walk to school was uneventful. Frank wasn't really paying close attention to the familiar but also new environment of New Jersey. 

They were soon at the middle school, which was close to the high school and where they dropped Harris off. Frank made an effort take in his new school as they walked up. It was definitely one of the nicer ones he had seen. This area seemed to have a bit more money than other places he had been. The building rested on a large hill and looked really big compared to what he was used to. Frank knew, though, that the real thing to judge was the content on the inside. 

Walking in, he tried not to look around too much and be too obvious in the fact that he was new. The kids didn't look different from the three high schools he had been at already. All the same types. He looked around for a bit before he saw the door labeled "main office". He sighed and pushed the door open to meet the secretary at the front desk. She was, on a good day, middle aged; your typical high school office assistant. "Can I help you?"

Frank got his information and was told where to go for his first period class. It took a good 30 minutes due to his guidance counselor being late. As he left the holding cell, he started towards his first class. He enjoyed the emptiness of the hallway as he walked along to room '242'. He liked hearing only his footsteps as first period droned on. He was watching the numbers pass as he tried to find his own. '238', '240'... '242'. He hesitated slightly before walking into his first period chemistry class. 

The teacher and students looked toward the door and Frank gave a small wave. The teacher asked, "Can I help you?" Frank spoke back with little hesitation, "Um, I'm new. Sorry I'm late- I had to get my schedule from the office." 

"Oh. I wasn't told anything about a new student. What's your name?"

"Frank Iero." 

"Well, I'm sorry to be the one to break the news, Frank, but you're a few weeks late to the start."

A few girls giggled at this joke and Frank pretended to smile so that it wasn't uncomfortable, blushing a bit. "Should I sit somewhere specific?" he asked, trying to move this interaction along.

"Grab any seat that's open."

Frank nodded and made his way to an open seat in the back corner of the room. The teacher resumed his lesson, "So where were we... Oh. Isotopes." 

Frank followed along, taking notes, before he noticed the muttering close to him followed by quiet laughter. He turned and was not surprised to see two bigger guys, sitting near him, both wearing the school's colors on their uniforms, looking at him and whispering. He sighed and looked away again, not crazy about what that probably meant for future him.

The bell rang after a bit of time and he got up quickly to leave, though he didn't know where he was going yet. He really didn't have the energy to deal with guys like them at the moment. He flew down the row, a serious expression on his face, as the teacher saw them out. "Have a good first day," he handed to Frank, to which he nodded and returned. 

He was walking a little faster than he would be as he pulled out the crumpled paper from his pocket to see what was next. '168'- Spanish. He headed swiftly to the room and sat down without incident. 

The morning went by pretty uneventfully. Teachers either noticed him minimally or took the time to interrogate him. "Where you from?" "Why'd you move?" "Why are you starting a month late?". He tried his best to answer with the most normal answers and to end the conversations as quickly as possible. The other kids seemed a lot more interested in him than he was in them. He was pretty average looking and didn't have any obvious flaws- he knew that people would be looking for them so they could put him in a certain class of people. As long as he was undetermined personality-wise, the less the others could judge. He knew this, and also the fact that his presence in this place probably wouldn't last more than a few months at most. So in terms of meeting new people, Frank felt it best to keep things to a minimum- the less attached, the better. 

Now it was sixth period-lunch. While walking unhurriedly to the cafeteria, he decided now was a good time to check out where his locker was. His schedule said it was number '110'. He walked along the first floor until he found it. Entering the combo, he noticed snickering from down the hall that was a little to obnoxious to no be noticed. He already knew just who it was. Without looking to them, he finished entering the combination. Before he could open the door, he was shoved from behind, his shoulder ramming into the metal locker. Two large boys from the first period chemistry class were preying on the smaller boy, who looked to the ground as they confronted him. "Hey, new kid. We thought we'd give you a nice warm welcome." He pushed Frank's back into the locker. This time the boy let out a small noise of protest as he hit. The dial had dug into his back as he collided, making him scrunch up his face as it stung. 

"You think you can just come here and have it easy? Nobody gets a free ride around here." With that, he punched Frank in the stomach with all his force, making the boy slouch over and fall to the ground in nausea. The two snickered as they walked away. "See you later, faggot."

Frank heard them step away before getting off the ground slowly, pain melting in his stomach. He picked himself and his stuff up as he walked off to the cafeteria- wherever that was. He walked all around the first floor to no avail: not that he was trying too hard anyway. He decided to just go outside and "eat" there. 

He exited through the front doors of the school where other kids were talking and laughing together. Frank found a nice Japanese maple away from all the noise and sat down under it. It had a nice browning color and it seemed to hide him from the outside world. He remembered the bagged lunch and got it out from his backpack. He pulled out an apple, cookies and a peanut butter sandwich. He took a bite of the sandwich before deeming himself full and putting all the food away again. The pain in his stomach had not completely gone away and it certainly didn't help with his appetite problem. He used his backpack as a pillow and lied face up over the leaves which had already fallen on the ground. He yawned and closed his eyes. It was a nice kind of day, warm but not hot. Peoples' voices faded as the wind carried them so all he could hear was the sound of his own empty head. It was nice.

He lied for about 20 minutes before the bell rang and he had to go to the next period. He checked his schedule. "7th period- band". He was a bit confused as to why he was in band- he didn't play any instruments except guitar. He'd just go today and tell the teacher there was a mistake and switch into a study hall or something. 

He found the band room and was met with the sound of a conglomeration of instruments warming up. He stepped in so he wasn't blocking the doorway. He gazed around the room, looking for the conductor, to tell him he wasn't meant to be here. He only saw kids playing scales and some who were laughing and talking. 

"Hey! Are you new?" Frank turned and saw who looked like the teacher, smiling and waiting for an answer. He was a little chubby and had black glasses. He looked... Jolly. Frank tried to respond, "Uh, yeah, I just-" 

"Great!" he cut Frank off. "Can you read music?" 

"Uh, yeah, but-"

"Great! You can be a percussionist. Unless you can play something else..."

Frank shook his head.

"Perfect! Here," he grabbed a boy standing nearby by the arm. "Gerard here will tell you how to do stuff and how band works here." The boy looked a little frazzled at being grabbed but also seemed used to it. He was short, but taller than Frank, and had a dark color scheme. His nails were painted black and his dark hair hung around his face, which was round and pale. Frank was immediately stricken by "Gerard's" big eyes which were wide open as the conductor pulled him quickly. 

"Uh, yeah, that's fine," Gerard said. With a quick smile, the conductor basically ran to the front of the room and cut everyone off. "Long tones!" he shouted, raising his arms to get everyone together. 

Frank turned to look at this boy. "Uh, hi. I'm Frank." The other boy smiled and nodded. "As you heard, I'm Gerard. I'm a percussionist, too. Did you just move here?" 

Frank had heard this question a million times today and thought he had been getting tired of it. But when this boy asked, he felt... Like he actually wanted to talk. There was something about the androgyny of the pitch in his voice or the softness of his features that felt safe. 

"Oh, yeah. I actually just got here last night."

Gerard's eyes widened again at this. "Woah! That's intense. Were you really tired this morning?"

Frank laughed, "Yeah. I still am."

Gerard giggled and continued on. "Are your parents crazy business people who move all the time?"

Frank didn't hesitate when he answered, "Oh, no. I just switched Foster homes again." He blushed, thinking he revealed too much. He usually never tells people that he's a foster kid.

Gerard just smiled again, "So you just met the people you're living with? That must be weird."

Frank looked at him in shock. It was such a...passive reaction. He answered as if Frank had just said something he'd heard a million times before. This made his heart flutter and feel warm. He smiled, "Yeah. They seem cool though, from the ten minutes I spent with them so far."

Gerard laughed, "Hey, that's good- you wouldn't want it the other way around."

Frank smiled again. "Okay- let me give you the down low on drums," Gerard proclaimed. 

The rest of the period, Frank was shown each percussion instrument and given a summary of what they were from the glockenspiel (or as Gerard called it, "tinnitus in a box") to the castanets (a.k.a, "lil clam clickers".) They laughed and talked the whole time. Before Frank knew it, the period was over. It flew right by. Gerard was really funny and nice. At the end of the period he wrote his number on a little slip of paper and gave it to Frank. "You seem cool," he said, "we should hang out sometime." Frank had blushed at that and responded with a "Yeah... You seem cool too." Gerard gave him a little wave as he left the room. Frank went to get his backpack from behind the timpani. He smiled, thinking of what Gerard had called them- "kettlecorn cooker drums". 

He found it strange that he had smiled and laughed so much in such a short period of time. It had been so long since he had smiled at all. He... Talked. To a stranger! As Frank lifted his bag up and walked out to history class, he could only smile warmly at the presence he had just interacted with. 'Gerard,' he thought. What a nerd. 

He was still smiling.

Maybe he'd stay in band after all.


	10. After School

The rest of the day was even more boring than the morning. That may have just been in contrast to band, though. When the last period bell finally rang, Frank was ready to go home and sleep for at least five years. His last period had been English and his new teacher was, as expected, the type who lived for drama and trauma. She knew about Frank being a foster kid and held him after a good 15 minutes telling him about how she was "here for him" and "could tell her anything". He nodded politely until she was done and thanked her, leaving as soon as he could. 

He visited his locker again after, wandering around sufficiently. The hallway was nearly clear by now. He entered in the combination as two large figures approached. This time he managed to get it open before it was slammed back shut again. Frank was pushed against the metal and he winced from the sharp pain. "Hey, faggot. Glad I caught you. Hope your first day wasn't too rough." Frank was looking down at the floor again, just wanting them to go away. "Hey," the bigger kid said, "I'm talking to you." He grabbed Frank's hair and pulled it up so that his face was forced to look up. The groupie watching let out a cruel charge of laughter. "Hey, why don't you answer me? I'm talking to you." He slammed Frank's head back into the locker. The two laughed as Frank could only reel from the pain. "Make any friends today? Or are you gonna have to move again because you can't?" Frank was whacked in the face with someone's fist and crumpled to the ground with a groan. He wasn't in that bad of pain yet but he wanted to make it look like that so that they would leave. 

As if they could read his mind, the main offender said to the form on the ground, "We're not leaving until you say something, fag," he delivered with a swift kick to Frank's torso. 

The short boy was curled on the ground and closed his eyes when he spoke, "Please, just... I need to get home. My parents won't know where I am and-" 

"Oh!" said the one boy, grinning. "He doesn't want to be late. Well... Why don't we show little Frankie the way out?"

Frank was suddenly hoisted from either side off the ground. His backpack was left behind as a pair of hands grabbed his legs. He was carried upside down as the two bigger kids laughed and spat out unoriginal comments about Frank being a faggot and liking being grabbed by a guy. 

The blood rushed to Frank's head as he continuously attempted to reach up and free himself. He hated being so short at times like this. It gave people an automatic advantage over him. Usually the bullies weren't this adamant about establishing dominance-it usually took at least a week. 'Every school is different, I guess,' he thought as he swung back and forth, one of the kids carrying him while the other spoke directly to Frank, taunting him when he was defenseless. 

They carried him through the hallway of the first floor until they reached a door to the outside. Frank was beginning to get dizzy but could see that they were walking on what looked like a soccer field. He couldn't hold his eyes open and felt as if he were going to pass out as he was carried across the length of the field. 

Suddenly he was dropped on the grass, his head spinning. They continued to say things at him, but at this point he was hearing none of it. He felt himself being pushed up and his head was slowly coming down from the clouds. His arms were pulled behind his back and he vaguely fought back, but was still very nauseous and dizzy. 

"Do you have it?" he heard one of the guys ask the other.  
"Yeah, here."  
One pulled out a roll of grey duct tape and handed it to the other. Frank was leaned against a goal post as they wrapped the tape around his arms, which were pinned behind his back. They taped his arms around the post so that he couldn't move. 

Frank just closed his eyes and just waited for it to stop. He had to wait until they left. 

They put a strip of tape over his mouth and one over his eyes, more for affect than anything. 

"Hey Frank, if you want us to let you go, just say something." Frank breathed out deeply and just hung his head. The two guys laughed and the other spoke, "Bro, we better get out of here before someone comes by."

"Yeah." He leaned down to Frank's ear one more time and said mockingly, "See you tomorrow, Frankie." 

Laughing, they ran away from the goal post. Frank listened to their footsteps until they disappeared. His head still felt weird and airy. He couldn't bring himself to be too upset, though. Bullies were something he'd always had to deal with. He knew by now that all they were were kids with their own issues who had something to prove to somebody. He knew that the most he could do was to try not to react to anything. Sometimes it made them angry, but sometimes they got bored. Fighting back was never an option for Frank. He always felt too small to even dream of standing up to someone like that. 

The only reason he had tried to fight back when carried upside down was because he had a little burst of confidence today for some reason. He usually would have dangled there and let the blood rush to his head, but something gave him the motivation to fight back. It's like for the first time ever he had energy to defend himself. He usually never wanted to because he didn't feel like he deserved better. He wondered why he had done that. There was nothing fundamentally different about this school. He thought about it, as that was all he could do, as the dizziness leveled itself out in his head. He felt like something changed-but there's no way it was his doing. 

It seemed like a pretty humid day of fall, so the chilly temperature wasn't too bad- it was the rain that was growing heavy that was making start to shiver. He didn't have any body fat to rely on, and he didn't exactly have the chance to grab a rain jacket. The tape was beginning to grow uncomfortable on his skin, too, and just sitting there was getting boring. He decided he should probably get going.

He relaxed his muscles as much as possible and focused on making his arms as macabre as they could be. He was taped down around his wrists and around the post. He pulled himself forward and used the post to stretch out the middle of the tape as much as possible. After it had become loose enough, he worked his right hand out of the tape. It was sticky and a bit of a struggle, but thanks to the stretching and the rain adding moisture, after a little bit it came right out. He used his now free hand to unwind the tape from his other. With both of his hands unbound, he pulled the tape off his eyes and mouth. He thought about the stereotype of it really hurting when you pulled tape off and how untrue it was- at least for him. He finally could stand up and look around. 

Taking a deep breath of wet air, he started back toward the school to retrieve his backpack. He went across the field, back to the door which he had been carried out of, the grass starting to squish as he stepped. It was locked from the outside. He sighed and stood there, not really knowing what to do- everyone was probably gone from school at this point. He looked into the doors window, hopeless, and noticed a black figure making its way down the hallway. He began to knock on the window in hopes of getting his attention. The person stopped and turned around, a pale face with dotted black eyes now facing the door. Frank waved and hoped he wouldn't just laugh and walk away. 

As he grew closer, Frank recognized him. He was the kid from band- Gerard. Frank blushed wildly and ducked his head. He heard the door open and slowly looked up. Rain tapped on the concrete around Frank and there was a pretty long exchange between the two with just their eyes.  
Gerard noticed the bruise that was colored newly on Frank's cheek and sighed.

"Was it those assholes on the fucking lacrosse team?"

Frank couldn't help but laugh as he shook his head, "I actually don't know which sport it was. But there always is one, isn't there?"

Gerard chuckled lightly, empathetic for Frank. "I'm glad I procrastinated my art project and was forced to stay late today." Frank laughed a little, shivering slightly from the autumn air and rain falling onto him still. Gerard held his hand out for Frank. "Do you live in town?" Frank nodded quickly. "I'll drive you home."

Frank blushed as he took Gerard's hand, feeling the warmth against his.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Gerard spoke to Frank as warm air blew from the rusty old car. He was a junior and 17. He was held back a grade because he refused to learn how to read for a couple of years and had "developmental communication issues". Gerard claimed that while it wasn't completely a lie, there were definitely kids he was surrounded by that could've used a couple extra years. Frank was smiling as he listened to Gerard's lively tellings of things. 

"What about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"You know, age, grade... Blah blah blah."

"I'm a sophomore and I'm 15. I'll be 16 soon."

"How soon?" Gerard asked, a little suspiciously. 

"The 31st."

"No way! Your birthday is on Halloween? Dude, we've gotta have like a party or something. That'd be like, a double party. NO WAIT!" He interrupted himself, "A TRIPLE PARTY. Halloween, a birthday, BUT not just any birthday- a sweet 16!"  
Frank blushed and laughed at Gerard. 'His enthusiasm is cute,' he thought. 

"Since we're friends now, all my friends are your friends too. That's the way it works. No exceptions. My brother is in your grade. Oh boy Frank, you certainly have won me over now. Halloween! So cool."

The car pulled up to Frank's driveway. The rain poured down on the metal and they both sat for a moment. 

"You should text me tonight, dude. Tell me all about your new family. I hope it all goes well." Frank nodded, but stayed, sensing that Gerard wasn't quite finished. "Sorry about those guys at school. They just look to give anyone hard time. Especially cute guys who make them question their sexuality." Gerard realized what he had said, his hair not able to completely hide the redness growing on his cheeks. Frank was wide-eyed and still. Gerard stuttered, "I- I- I just meant that you're like, um, not terrible looking, and, uh, I'd be dumb to not see that- not that you're even remotely terrible looking- even if I wasn't queer I'd be able to tell- NOT THAT I AM-"

He cut himself off and took a few breaths. Frank watched him carefully, trying to process it all. "Um, sorry. Really. Um. I just hope that a really good friendship counteracts the self-contained shittiness of high school. Not that it has to be a really good one, you just seem cool and I just- I just..."

They both were still as this awkward exchange unfolded further. Gerard extended his hand for Frank. "Talk to you later?" His eyes were closed and his head was slightly hung. Frank shook it in one motion and then took his leave. 

"Thanks for the ride, Gerard. I'll text you later." 

The darkly colored boy nodded a little and waved. Frank closed the door, still stunned, and made his way inside. He looked back once more before going through the door and saw Gerard sat with his head on the steering wheel, unmoving. As he turned around, he finally realized how fucking awkward that was. He laughed and hung his coat up, and then sat on the bench in the house's entryway. Gerard wasn't just nice- he was queer too.  
And he thought Frank was cute! 

Oh, man.

Frank giggled some more and heard Gerard's car finally roll away. He looked out the window and smiled. 

Oh, MAN.


	11. Avante-garde

Frank walked into the house, still smiling. "Hey, Frank! How was your first day?" His new father was in the living room reading the paper and heard Frank come in.   
"Uh, it was good." The boy's smile weakened as he was reminded of his new situation. He, rightfully so, didn't have the highest hopes for this family- or any at this point. 

He turned away from the door and his father noticed the dark bruise that wasn't there before. He eyed it suspiciously, and tried to proceed with care.

"How were the, um, kids?" 

Frank assumed he saw the car drop him off, "Oh, this kid named Gerard drove me home. I met him in band. He's really cool." Frank started smiling all over again, involuntarily, he might say.   
Frank's dad hadn't seen him smile yet- he was a little thrown off. He decided not to pry about the bruise for now.   
"I'm glad you're making friends," he said with finality. 

With a smiling nod, Frank made his way upstairs to his room. 

He shut his door behind him. Suddenly a huge wave of nothingness swept over Frank. He started having trouble breathing and found his way over to the bed. Once under the covers, he curled up and held his legs, trying not to be too loud. Tears started riveting down his face as he gasped for air. His back was tense as his body shook. 

Frank was prone to panic attacks like this. They normally happened when there had been a dramatic shift in his moods that made him feel lost and confused. Since his childhood had been such an emotional roller coaster, how he was treated and how he perceived things happening were very fragile. It's like the shell of his brain was heated in an oven for hours then thrown in cold water, making it crack. 

It probably doesn't help that he skipped his medication for anger management either. 

When these happened, Frank felt primarily frustrated, mad. It's like all the anger that had built up over the day was spewing out, out of his nose and out of his mouth, pooling on his bed sheets. 

He clenched his teeth and knocked his head against his knee quietly, crying and breathing violently. He was pretty exhausted generally and, of course, realized that nothing he felt today was permanent. It'd change and he'd lose it, like always. 

He remembered nobody could love him. 

After about 20 minutes, Frank started to be able to breathe okay. He felt exhausted and his eyes were raw and heavy. He wiped his face and drifted off into a long overdue sleep.  
\------------------------------------------  
"Frank, dinner!"  
One of his new siblings called from outside the door. It was now a light shade of evening, two hours later. Frank was soundly wrapped up in a cacophony of blankets and tears, warm and sleeping. He didn't hear.

Libby knocked and waited. "Come on, time to eat." When he didn't even answer to say no, Libby took it upon herself to go in. 

She creaked the door open and saw the sleeping form. She sighed and walked over to the bed. She tapped his back, "Frank, wake up." 

He was soundly asleep, but Libby noticed he was twitching. His arms were spasming and his face looked far from content. She lightly shook his shoulder as he mouthed a word to someone far away. He suddenly woke up, whipping his head over to look at the girl standing over him. 

"Sorry to wake you up. It's supper time." 

Frank blinked and rubbed his eyes, "Oh, right. Sorry I was tired out from school. I'll be right down."

"Ok. See you there," she said, taking her leave. 

Frank sighed and groggily blinked. Naps always left him feeling weird. Especially ones induced from a panic attack. 

He made his way to a bathroom. He met a reflection with red eyes and messy hair. He washed them out with water to get rid of some of the redness and combed down his mane. He looked at him for a second, feeling empty. With an exhale, he walked down to the kitchen. 

Frank's new mom saw him walk in and slump into the chair, "Nice of you to come, Frank. I hope you like pasta." Frank just nodded and kept his eyes down. She placed a plate of food in front of the boy and noticed the shading on his cheek. Still watching him, she sat down with the rest of the family. "How was everyone's day?" 

Harris started talking about a science fair he was getting involved in as Frank stared at the plate. The sauce was steaming and hitting his face. Tomatoes. The broccoli off to the side was touching the edges of it. He thought of the food mushing around in his mouth. Into his stomach. Sitting in his stomach. Moving around. Why doesn't everyone see how gross-  
"How about your day, Frank?"

His thoughts were interrupted with the question from his new mom. He straightened in his chair a bit and answered, "Good?"

"Care to elaborate?"

He just shook his head, picking up his fork and looking back to his plate. 

"Nothing to say about a whole new school?" she continued. Frank just shrugged, wanting this exchange to end. The father chimed in, "Frank made a new friend."  
"Oh, is that true?" the mother asked.  
Frank just shrugged and began picking at the food. The father kept going, "What was his name? Jerome? Gerald? G..." 

"Gerard," Frank said, blushing at the name.   
"How'd you meet this boy?"   
"Uhm, in band. He showed me the different percussion. He drove me home later since it was raining."

"Lucky!" piped Harris, "I was soaked when I got home." 

"Yeah," agreed the mom, "that's very nice of him. How old is this boy?"

"Uh, he said he's 17." Frank chuckled thinking of the goofy pale boy, "He wears a lot of black. He's pretty funny too." Frank shied away after saying this, blushing harder and looking down at his food. 

"Oh, I know that kid. He's the eccentric emo one who can draw well. I had art with him last year." said Libby, "He seems cool."

Frank just smiled at this. He sounded cute. Just then he felt his phone buzz in his pocket- he wasn't even entirely sure it did that. Who would be texting him?

He slid it out and an unknown number appeared as the messenger. His heart beat rose a bit as he read the message on screen:  
'Guess who stalked you...'.  
He nervously slid to see the rest of it and was relieved when he saw the rest of the message:  
'Guess who stalked your Facebook and found your number? I'll give you a hint- rhymes with Bernard.'

He smiled and bit his lip. He cleared his throat and asked his parents, "May I be excused?"   
"You ate barely anything," his mom said.  
"I'm... Just not hungry right now."  
"Okay, but only for today." Frank nodded and made his way to his room quickly.  
He shut his door and plopped himself on his bed. 

He texted the number, 'Hmmm... Could it be... Avant-garde? Graveyard?' Frank smiled to himself, thinking he was clever. 

The number quickly texted back, 'While I would accept either of those nicknames any day. I'm not known by either of them currently. Guess again.'

'Could it be... Oh! Gerard? From band I believe?"'

'Brilliant! Only took three tries.'

Frank giggled. 'So what are you stalking me for, Gerard? What have you got to say?'

G: 'Well, I thought I'd bother the New Boy instead of doing homework. What's your evening been like?'

F: 'Eh, just slept for a while. Navigating new schools is always harder than it has to be.'  
They texted until about 12:30, talking about bands, comics, DND- just about anything that meant nothing. Frank wasn't bored for a moment of it. He really liked this kid.

G: 'Well, I should let you go to sleep now. It's been a pleasure, Iero. I hope I get to see your face tomorrow.'

F: 'As do I, good sire. Until then, goodnight.'

G: 'night.'  
Frank closed his phone and sighed into his pillow, content. He drifted off into a sleep, thinking about his new friend. He felt a charge of hope in his chest that he didn't really want to go away. Though he had a hard time trusting, Gerard seemed nicer than anyone he had ever met before. It was just a nice unconditional friendship. It's something that Frank had wanted his whole life. Unconditional love. 

Maybe here he could find it.


	12. Fraternization

The bell ending fifth period rang out, students soon after flooding the halls. Frank waddled behind his classmates into the open space, off to lunch. It was now the 20th of October, two Mondays since his first day at the new place. So far, things had been pretty normal.

Gerard saw him in band everyday and texted him eventually evening. It was a nice thing to look forward to everyday, seeing his freaky doughy face and reading his odd texting style (which involved completely inaccurate use of semicolons and the trademark symbol). The whole thing felt so refreshing and innocent to Frank, so wholesome. It made everything feel more vibrant, more valuable. 

Frank stepped into the steamy lunch line to buy lunch. His original plan to avoid eating lunch had been to pretend to buy food, rather than bring from home to throw it away, so that he wasn't wasting food at all- but he realized his family could monitor the money coming out of his student account to make sure he really was buying food, (which they probably would be with Frank's eating disorder history), so now he bought the food to pick at. 

He had noticed he was losing a little weight, as his new family hadn't caught on to his food-avoidance tendencies and tricks yet. That was one of the good things about moving around to different families. He knew not eating was bad, but nobody understood why it was hard for him. It's considered a basic function of life. Failing at something like that doesn't make much sense to many people. 

Once he had gone overboard with it around the ripe age of 13 and ended up in the hospital for basically starving himself. That was a big 'whoops' on his part. It was the marker for when anorexia became an official disorder for him, something to slap down on the old files and warn foster parents about. Now, he was careful to sustain himself minimally in order to avoid death or anything close to it. But smelling the school lunch everyday didn't give Frank much motivation to eat even the bare minimum.

He payed for his suspicious turkey sandwich without turkey and his side of sketchy applesauce and carrots and stepped out where the line let out in the cafeteria. Right away his eye tried to catch Gerard- before Gerard's eye caught Frank. For two weeks Frank had successfully avoided Gerard during this period so that the other boy had no idea they even shared a lunch. Frank had seen him in the cafeteria the second day with other friends and automatically noped out of that one- he may have been warming up to one guy, but even that's a big stretch for Frank. 

So, he normally just sat outside alone, where he was safe from the dangers of high school fraternizing. Today he gave a passive glance around the room before he sighed a little bit, wishing something could push him towards such a meaningful action as confidently introducing himself to more than half of one person at once. He'd never be able to do that on willpower alone. 

Frank suddenly found himself on the ground, moments later. With the breathy snickering of a gorilla coming from above him, he realized he had been pushed behind by his main foil, who he had learned was named "Connor"- such a LAX bro name it made him want to vomit. 

He had managed to save his clothes from food stains, but the food itself was now spread all over the ground. As could be predicted, Frank didn't exactly mind this, though. What he did mind was that now a number of people in the room were looking at him, a good portion of them laughing under their breath. Frank just rolled his eyes and picked up as much as he could. 

"Frank?" He froze as he heard the familiar voice of Gerard address him. He looked up to see the stark, pale face and black surrounding it. He had just been going to the lunch line himself and was staring at Frank, who was sort of blocking the way, who blushed as he looked down, brushing off his pants, and stood up. The lacrosse bullies just chuckled and slunk away. 

"Hi- sorry I'm in the way, I-I-I..."

"No, dude," Gerard cut him off, "it's not that you're on the floor- I've had my ass pushed on this school's floor more times than I could ever remember. I'm just surprised I didn't realize you had the same lunch as me."

"Uhhh..." Frank looked for a way to deny it, but seeing as he had dropped his lunch tray, he couldn't think of any excuses.  
"Yeah," he finally responded, "I guess I just didn't see you," shrugging and feeling his warm face continue its red glow. 

"Well, I was just about to meet some friends outside. Let's go, you can share lunch with me."

"Oh, I- I-," Frank hesitated, this being exactly what he feared for two weeks. He sighed, "Yeah, okay," nervous.

Gerard smiled and gestured for him to follow. 

They walked towards a small set of bleachers outside, approaching two other boys, one with a large bush for hair and, the other, blonde with old-lady spectacles. They both noticed the two approaching and waved. 

Once they were close enough, the big-haired one spoke, "Hey, Way. Who's this rather small man?" 

Frank crookedly smiled as Gerard spoke for him, "This is Frankenstein, Frank for short. Frank, this is Ray and that's Mikey, who is also, unfortunately, my brother."

Offended, Mikey tried to come back, "Come on, really? That's-"

"Oh!" Ray interrupted, "is this the Frank you've been telling us about?"

Frank blushed at this, and was silent, not sure how to respond to this. 

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Gerard said, warning in his voice.

"Oh yeah," Mikey started, snarky with vengeance in his voice, "this is the cute guy from band you won't shut up about at dinner, isn't it?"

"SHHHHHH!!" Gerard hissed, lurching at his brother to ruffle his hair up, half playfully, half homicidally. 

Frank just looked at the ground, mortified and weirdly close to giggling like a kid. 

Mikey screamed as he was attacked about a deranged beaver man rubbing a hole in his skull as Ray seemed to debate over whether he should put his sandwich down and break it up or just continue eating.

"There," Gerard said with finality, stepping back from his brother. 

"Jeez!" said Mikey, exasperated, "last time I try to make a joke insulting a fucking beaver's pride."

Gerard flipped him off and then sat on the ground, Indian style, in front of where he dropped his tray of food. He looked up at Frank as if nothing had happened and patted the ground next to him. Frank sat, a little dazed.

"So Frank, you new here?" asked Ray. 

"Uh, yeah. I just moved from another area of New Jersey."

"Oh, really? Where?"

Frank thought for a minute before replying, "uhh, it started with an 'H', I think..."

Ray looked at him quizzically, then at Gerard, who just smirked as he gazed at the small boy. He had learned a little bit about Frank's constant moving over the years. He figured it was just because of the system he was in. He admired his nonchalance over something he'd never be able to deal with. Plus, he loved seeing Ray weirded out, which was a semi rare occurrence. 

"Cool..." Ray said, finally.

Frank played with the grass as Ray and Mikey bickered about some illegal move Mikey had pulled in DND  
("2/20 on a roll does NOT mean your play goes through!"  
"Well maybe you shouldn't be high next time you DM!") 

Gerard pushed his tray so it was more in between the two of them, "I know you said you're a vegetarian, so you can have my carrots."

Frank smirked and responded, "Am I the dog under the table now? Gerard doesn't want to eat his own vegetables?"

Gerard made a face as though he was offended, "Frankenstein, you are unbelievable. I offer you my limited rations and you disrespect me in return?"

They both giggled at this.

"But seriously dude," Gerard continued, a little more demanding, "eat a little. A growing boy has to eat."

Frank chuckled at this, "Dude, we both know I'm as likely to grow as you are to play on the football team."

Gerard laughed half-heartedly, subtly pushing his tray closer to Frank. Frank noticed this but pretended not to.

"I'm not very hungry today," he said with finality, and turned away to look at the grass some more. Gerard sighed and dropped it- for now.  
***********************  
"Alright, guys," announced the band  
teacher, Mr. Loretto, towards the end of class, "as you should know, our fall concert is coming up next month. That's why, in light of my absence tomorrow, we will be having sectionals. For the new members to this band, you basically team up with your section and tweak each other's playing. The leader of each section is automatically in charge. Questions? No?" He paused for a moment.  
"Then bye!" 

The room filled with the sound of rustling papers and chatter right after class was dismissed. Frank grabbed his backpack from behind the timpani and joined Gerard as he left for 8th period. 

"Ugh, fucking math," muttered Gerard as they strode down the hallway. "Two months in and I've already had enough."

"Why'd you even take math? You're a senior, right?" added Frank.

"Yeah, I didn't technically have to, but I guess I'm somewhat of a masochist. I need boring classes like that so that classes like art or band are even more enjoyable to me. If I didn't have fucking pre-calc," Gerard pondered outloud, "maybe art would start to be boring to me too."

Frank fake-gasped at this, "Art? Boring? Gerard WAY?"

They laughed. "No, but I get what you're saying," continued Frank. "Plus," he offered, "you can't create art in a vacuum. If you didn't have anything but art and music, what'd you create? Art and music about art and music?"

"Mmmmm..," Gerard commented. 

"Well, not to say you're going to graph a parabola and add glitter and call it art, but you know what I mean."

Gerard nodded, "Yeah you're right about that, but I disagree." He smirked, "What if I made art about you?"

Frank just chuckled, trying not to blush, as he looked at his feet, "That's not allowed."

Now it was Gerard's turn to laugh, "Oh yeah?" he challenged.

"Very," Frank stated definitively. 

Gerard suddenly grabbed Frank's hand and brought him to a less busy crevice in the hallway. Frank was caught of guard, "Hey, we gotta go-"

"Shhhhh," sang Gerard as he waved Frank's words off into the air with his hands. Frank looked at him suspiciously, but listened. 

"Would it also be not allowed to ask you to accompany me to the dance this Friday? You know, along with making art about you."

Frank stared for a second, forgetting even to blush. Oh, wait, no, his face was getting very, very red now. He stared at Gerard's face and then away, anywhere but at his face.  
"Uh... Uh... That would be ... fine."

Gerard smiled at this and gave Frank's arm a little squeeze as he left, "Bye, Fraaaank," drawing his name out for as long as possible.

Frank just stood there, agape, as the late bell sounded. The hallway was almost clear as he walked away. He started to realize what he just got asked and started grinning like an absolute dork. He started laughing to himself and put his hands on his face as he wobbled off to class.


	13. Ribbons

"Gerard. Nice to see you. Thanks for the ride"

Frank shifted his eyes and tried again.

"Gerard. Wow. You look great."

He shook his head and let out a frustrated breath.

"Gerard. Why the fuck isn't the dance next week instead?"

Frank sighed and put his head down, wanting to look at the sink more than his reflection. He had been trying to think of what to say to Gerard when he first came to pick him up tonight. He had been living in ignorance of that first, dreaded sentence- until he realized that it could likely set up the mood for the entire night.   
Of course, this fear was totally irrational. But Frank? Yeah, he was irrational.

The days between now and when Gerard had first asked had been fine- after Gerard asked Frank to the dance, the two lived in a comfortable no-man's-land of teen angst. Neither outrightly said it, but they both seemed to know that Gerard wasn't exactly asking in a friendly way. The actual pressure of the situation hadn't hit Frank all week- until now. He didn't know how to be romantic. He didn't even know where to start. 

Frank always tried not to let his past affect him by thinking too much, but he also knew the sad reason he had feared dating for years- his past taught him that "love" was equated with physical pleasure. The concept of something in between friendship and sex still felt foreign to him, even after several years of recovery and counseling. He was so afraid of who he knew he could become so easily if someone pushed himself just a little too much. Add that to the pressure of a real first crush and you have what Frank was feeling- manic and worried. 

"Hi, friend. Are we friends? Guess that all depends then, huh? Huh!" 

He had been going at this for around 30 minutes. He had been trying to repress his nerves somehow, but now the floodgates were open and he could only remain fixated on this minor detail.

He looked up one more time, but only glowered at himself in silence. He sighed, pointing at his reflection, "Don't fuck this up."

"Frank! Gerard is here!"

The boy gave himself a last glance over before exiting the bathroom. 

His foster mom, Cynthia, was waiting downstairs with a smile. Frank gave her a toothy excuse for a grin to match her own as neared the bottom of the stairs.  
"Does the shirt fit alright?" 

The two had gone shopping together once Cynthia had heard Frank was going to a dance. Frank had gotten a light blue sweater to go over a collared white button up with a subtle indigo bow tie to match. The rest of his outfit was more casual- black jeans with some converse- as this wasn't exactly a formal event he had to dress for. He hadn't wanted to shop more than an hour, with shopping forever reminding him of that family that ditched him like he was a rabid dog. He shopped with Cynthia as a gesture, but couldn't bring himself to extend the trip beyond one sweater. The bow tie, he already had. 

He nodded to her question and she smiled again. They stood for a bit in weird silence before Frank spoke, "So should I like... Go now, or."

"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry I just. I'm glad you're here, Frank."

He fake smiled widely, "Thank you." He counted to three before asking, "Is there a time I should be back by?"

"Oh, just any time, as long as you're being safe. I won't wait up for you."

Frank nodded and grabbed a coat as he left out the door with a quick wave. He stood in the little in between room and breathed deeply. He had his thought about how these rooms used to be used by women in air-tight corsets who couldn't breathe after walking to the front of a house in the back of his mind as he stared at the door, chewing his lip. He felt like one of those women now as he tried to catch his breath and just. Turn the handle. On the door. He'd do it on 3.

One. Two. Three- And he suddenly stood before a rosy- cheeked Gerard with his fist raised parallel to where the door stood two seconds ago. 

The two boys stared at each other with wide eyes for about five seconds before exploding with nervous laughter. They settled down, tears in their eyes, when Gerard looked to Frank's unzipped coat, "Nice outfit! I like your bow tie."  
Frank sighed, his stomach worked, "Thanks." He smiled and looked at his friend, "You always look handsome." He felt his throat tighten as soon as he said it. Luckily, Gerard just giggled some more in return. "Don't get all cute just yet- the night is still young." 

Frank just smiled as they walked their way through the brisk fall air to the car. As soon as they closed the doors, Gerard got the heat blowing out of the vents and they both sighed in relief.  
"I thought places by water were supposed to be like... More temperate," Gerard complained.   
"Someone paid attention in earth science," Frank teased.  
"And for what?? They're lying!" 

Frank laughed at Gerard's mock disbelief. He felt his stomach turn over in nerves again. He had forgotten- this was probably a date. He got a little quiet as he remembered and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. 

Gerard kept on grinning, oblivious to the tension."Have you ever been to a dance before?"

Frank shook his head. "No. I've never really had a reason to go." 

Gerard laughed lightly, "There is no reason to go. Jerks like me just go to leave. Sort of like exercise... Or what I've heard of it. You, like, put yourself through some pain and bask in relief afterwards. They're just kind of fun to make fun of. You know?"

"Yeah, I kind of get it. Are they really that bad?"

Gerard scoffed, "Oh god. You really have never been to one! Just you wait, my dear Frank."

They whipped into the school's parking lot and put their car near the back, Gerard saying he felt safer leaving his car 'protected by shadows'. They paid $5 admission and made their way into the gym to see it had been transformed into a low lit mess of black and orange. Most people were in small clumps of groups, talking as they looked around a tad nervously. Only like two kids were actually dancing in the center of the room. Frank immediately understood what Gerard had meant. It looked pretty lame.

Frank looked to Gerard and asked through the loud music, "Are Mikey and Ray here?"   
This got a good laugh out of Gerard.   
"Oh boy. Sorry, I just pictured Mikey dancing to this awful shit. No, no- those two wouldn't be caught dead here. We'll meet up with them later though"

"Later?"

Frank didn't get an answer before a girl with pink hair was running up to Gerard excitedly. "HEY!" she screamed over the noise as she near- tackled the boy. 

Gerard laughed a bit as he tried not to fall. "Hi, Jackie. Frank- you've met Jack, right?"

Frank shook his head. No. He hadn't met her. 

"Hi!" she said again. She seemed a bit drunk. "I'm from Gerard's art class. What's your name?"

Frank, he said. 

She gasped. "IS THIS THE ONE?" Gerard just gave her a 'cut it out' look. The message was not received. "Gerard loves you! I mean-" she cut out in giggles, "I love you too! We just talk about you like every day! Wow." She focused her eyes a little more. "You are really cute..."

Frank blushed and Gerard stepped in, "Ok! Ok. Enough about Frank. How's the music been?" 

"OH! They have a suggestion list. I put a shit ton on there."

The striking baseline for 'Blister in the Sun' suddenly rung out. Frank wouldn't say it, but he loved that song. He actually felt an urge to dance.

"There's one! Come on!" She grabbed the two boys hands and made them go to the center. Frank had no clue how to dance, but it was fine, because neither did Gerard or his friend. The song had attracted a good number of others. Wow, dancing at a dance, Gerard had said. He laughed. Frank had smiled. 

Jackie's songs played for a while. Good moments included the three doing the cotton-eye-joe to 'Lithium' and when Gerard had gotten down on his knees during 'Jesus of Suburbia'', mouthing the words dramatically during the 'Dearly Beloved' bit. 

The fun came to an end, though, when some indistinguishable pop song started. Some people stayed but many left. Gerard was laughing as he went towards the bleachers.  
"Shit," he said, breathing and sweating a good amount, "that's the most fun I've ever had at one of these things." Jackie had gone off with other friends, so the two boys were left alone.

Gerard checked his phone, "Ah, Ray and Mikey said they're at the store getting shit for tonight. Oh, shit, tonight. I forgot to ask you- could you come to sleepover at my house? Well, mine and Mikey's house?" 

"Oh..," Frank hadn't been to a sleepover before. He had wanted to as a kid, but his parents never had let him. And after that, he had been such a mess that nobody tried asking. He was clueless as to what happened in these. He pictured the cliché image of girls having feathery pillow fights or playing 'would you rather', but he was pretty sure these were idealized and inaccurate. 

"Do I text my mom?" 

Gerard hesitated, "Um... That's what I would do?"

Frank sent his mother a standard 'can I do this' text and was surprised when he got such a quick 'Sure thing!' back. He told Gerard, but before the boy could let out a cheer, Frank cut him off.   
"Um... I don't really have pajamas or anything..."   
Gerard 'pffft'ed him off, "You can wear mine! Or Mikey's." Then he picked off where he left off with the cheer, "YAYY! Frank's coming over! What a treat! What an honor!" They giggled and Gerard let out a sigh.   
"Want to go outside? I'm toasting in here."

They went out to the front of the school where there was an open field to the right. They found a space in the shadows and sat in the wet-ish grass against a wall. The night was chilly but clear. The world really felt like its own little sphere, Frank thought. He felt like he was somewhere else. He couldn't really see Gerard, but he knew he was there. He felt trapped. No, he felt secure. For once, he allowed the dark to blanket him rather than suffocate him. 

"I feel like I'm in a marble," Frank said, allowing his own quiet voice to join the other night sounds around him. Gerard hummed at this. Frank smiled as he added, "I feel safe." 

Then he felt a hand touch his. He almost flinched away but didn't. He felt the hand make circles around his own, sending butterflies straight through him. It was like he could see the circles in the air before him in purple and blue, which made him feel ticklish all over. He turned his head to look at Gerard's face in the moonlight and saw that two black eyes the color of stones you'd find in a creek were already staring at him. He couldn't even blush as he felt something like the feeling of cold creek water passing calmly at your feet pass through his whole body instead. Smooth stone eyes. This was the most serious he had seen Gerard, though his expression was not serious at all. He was pondering, but not thinking a single thought. Frank just looked back. He felt as though it was just them in that creek and that's where they were now. In a marble. He could fall on the stars above him if someone were to roll it across a wooden floor. 

Gerard touched his nose with his fingers that looked like ribbons. Silver ribbons. They fluttered against Frank's cheek and then his jawline. Frank saw the negative space of the face looking back at him. His eyes were sunken away. His hair was losing its existence rapidly, stealing the sides of his face as the left. Though it was getting closer, Frank knew it wasn't just to kiss. It was to be closer. He felt himself leaning in as well. He wanted to be closer. He wanted to stay here forever. 

*CRACK*

The boys jumped out of their skin as the bright tail of a small firework lit up into the sky and screamed as it exploded. Glaring headlights of a pick up truck with a few guys loudly laughing cut into the air as they rolled into the parking lot of the school. The boys were frozen as the headlights came closer and closer until they were hitting them in the face.   
*POP*  
They could see them.   
*CRACK*  
Oh no. 

"Hey! That's-" 

Frank didn't hear anymore before he was being picked up by Gerard's hand and sprinting back into the dark. Adrenaline carried him and he wouldn't have been able to hear the footsteps of someone following with the sound of blood rushing inside his ears. Somehow, he and Gerard managed to hold hands the entire scramble back to his car. They shut themselves inside the back seat and panted, hoping nobody saw them. After about two minutes, they caught their breath and relaxed a bit. 

They jumped again when the buzz of Gerard's phone sounded with a text. It was from Mikey: 'R U coming?' Gerard sighed, "They made it home. You ready to sleepover?"   
"Well, now I want to get the fuck out of here."  
Gerard laughed nervously. "Yeah. Wow that was a little terrifying."   
"Yeah." 

They climbed into the front seats and creeped out of the school territory with their headlights off through a back passage. They only really felt safe when they were back on the main roads. The two didn't talk much- one, because they probably could've just been beaten up pretty badly and, two because of why they would have been beaten up in the first place, that being that they were pretty close back there. It took a lot to shake Gerard up but even he clung tightly with both hands to the wheel as they drove back home. Having a mood shift as big as that was a little hard to catch up with. 

When they finally arrived at Gerard's house, he turned the car off but didn't start getting out. He looked at Frank after a few moments and seemed like he was going to say something. But he just kept looking. Frank understood- it was a look of knowing. They both knew what had happened between them and they both knew why they had run away so quickly. That was it. 

They both left the car and made their way into the house to find Ray and Mikey lounging around the TV in the living room with different varieties of junk food splayed across the floor.   
"Hey! You guys made it!" Ray said, mouth full of Cheetos. Mikey gave a little grin as he leaned over and whispered something to Ray, who giggled in return. Gerard just frowned and shook his head as he brought Frank by one hand to sit on a couch in the room. 

"What are we watching?"   
"Jeepers Creepers 2," replied Mikey.  
"Ahhh, a modern classic."   
"How was the dance?" Mikey asked, now with a little side glance.   
"Oh man! They actually played real music! We danced and had actual fun for once. It was all cool until some jerks in a pick up came around the parking lot with explosives. Scared the shit out of us."  
Mikey now turned his head, "And what were you doing outside? In the dark?" He cracked the 'k' in the last word, entertained.   
"Hush," Gerard said, "we just got hot inside."   
Mikey gave him a 'I know you're full of shit' look before receding once again. 

They all watched the movie and laughed at the ridiculous dated affects for a while. Frank found himself growing tired quickly. He didn't have any energy for a pillow fight whatsoever. By the time one of the jocks on the bus had been decapitated, he was falling asleep steadily onto Gerard's arm. 

"Hey- Frank." A gentle voice pulled him into that weird tired in between place, his eyes still closed and his mind swirling around.  
"Why don't you go change?" Frank had one of those 'I'm dreaming I did this thing I had to do because I just want to be lazy' moments and totally just let himself drift again.   
"Hey," Gerard reiterated as he chuckled a bit, "how about we get you a little more comfortable?"   
These words triggered something dark deep within Frank. He smiled groggily and breathed out, "That's my job," reaching a hand to Gerard's chest and dragging it down sloppily. 

Gerard blushed and froze, confused. Mikey and Ray noticed too and watched. They had all gotten to know Frank as a timid sweetheart who you could probably fit in your luggage. This was someone different. 

"Uh... Frank? Hey," he gave the grinning boy a shake and Frank felt himself wake up, the layer of confusion gone. He saw unfamiliar walls and was caught in a place between panic and a sinking feeling. As he turned and saw the three boys looking at him curiously, he felt a breath of relief invade his chest.  
"Sorry, I just fell asleep. I'm tired."   
"Yeah...," nobody brought up anything else. "Do you want some pjs?" Gerard asked.  
"Yeah that'd be good."

Gerard, a little spooked now, led Frank upstairs to his room. Frank didn't seem to know that he had done anything in his sleep as he changed in the closet into Star Wars pants and an oversized white shirt with a pink cat on it. Gerard felt a little like it was none of his business and a little like it totally was his business. 

When Frank came out of the closet, oversized clothes and all, Gerard couldn't help but laugh. Frank smiled too. As he turned to leave, Gerard stopped him.  
"Hey, do you have weird sleeping things? Like talking or walking?"  
Frank's face went pretty white. "Why do you ask?"  
Gerard noticed this change just decided to let it go. "No reason. I just wanted to let you know that I do some weird shit- I can't ever seem to turn my brain off. Just felt right to let you know."  
Frank smiled again, "Oh, ok. That's fine."

They made their way back to the couch and Frank snuggled up a little faster this time, even grabbing a blanket to cover himself with. He dozed off, curled up and against his friend's arm. Gerard stayed awake for a while, watching into the night and then the early morning whatever the TV spat out, just kind of thinking. About Frank, about tonight, about everything together. Things were falling into place a little more now, he realized. Ray and Mikey were at his feet, passed out wherever they fell as an infomercial for exercise equipment blared through the dark.

He let the things talk as they floated around in his mind, coming and going and then coming back again. Things about Frank and how he was afraid to talk. Things about the way he avoided people and food and treated life as if it were about to fall apart. Things about how Gerard found himself thinking about him more and more with each passing day. 

He clicked the TV off and sighed.

Yes, the pieces might be falling into place. Whether or not the picture that fell was pretty was another matter.


	14. 'Benjamin'

"Get your fucking foot out of my face!" Mikey screamed out, waking whoever was there to listen.   
Gerard groaned, "Mikey... For Chrissake..."   
"You didn't have Ray Toro's crusty toes to tap you awake, ok? Kiss my ass."   
Gerard shook his head and leaned over to see if Frank had woken up to find a dent in the couch cushion next to him instead of the body that had made it. He looked in the surrounding area but came up empty. He rubbed his eyes and flopped off the couch, "Guys, clean up all the shit on the floor." 

This earned mutters of protest from below, where apparently Ray had moved his feet away from Mikey's precious face and the two were once again ready to fall asleep. Gerard started down the hallway. His first thought was that Frank must have gotten uncomfortable where he was sleeping and moved to the bed. When that was empty too, he thought, furrowing his brow. Where could Frank be? 

His thoughts were broken by an abrupt shout of surprise that cut through the air. He instantly recognized it as his mother's voice and rushed to the source- her bedroom. 

"Ma! Ma- what's going on?"   
His mother was wide- eyed as she looked at the floor on the side of the bed that Gerard couldn't see. He rushed over to his mother and slowly exhaled. 

Well, he found Frank. 

The boy's frail body was curled up in a sitting position, eyes as wide as his mother's, the bottom half of his face hidden by his knees. His hair looked like the Tim Burton version of a truffula tree as it stuck up all over the place. 

Gerard crossed his arms over his chest, smirking, "So... Was the couch really worse than the floor?"   
Frank spoke hesitantly, not knowing what to say to the woman who quickly seemed to change from confused to slightly angry, hands on hips, who was apparently Gerard's mom.   
"I- I... Sleepwalk sometimes..," he peeped out. 

The woman finally let out a breath and crossed her arms as well, "Oh, it's no big deal. I was just not prepared to lay my feet on something warm and fleshy. I had a heart attack thinking maybe Mikey had brought in a stray... Again." She let out a chuckle. "I'm Donna, by the way," she added, extending her hand to Frank. 

The boy looked at it for a few seconds before cautiously uncurling and taking hold of it in a shake.   
"I'm Frank." She made a little 'oh' sound and gave Gerard some kind of look. He just held a tight smile and raised his eyebrows in a 'please do not say what you are going to say right now' look. She got the message and just smiled casually and felt at her hair.   
"Oh, God. I must look like an absolute mess. I'm going to go take care of this- Gerard, fix your friends breakfast." 

When she was out the door, Gerard turned back to Frank and helped him to his feet. They made it back to the living room where Frank located his pile of stuff amongst the two bodies and mess on the floor.   
Gerard whispered, "I don't want to seem like I'm getting all domestic, but we should make breakfast."  
Frank just blushed, looking down. Gerard tried not to giggle at him. "You like pancakes?" 

Before he could respond, he heard a buzz from his folded pants and went to check his phone. It was from Cynthia.   
'Come home soon, please.'   
He told Gerard who made an 'awwww' sound.   
"Can't you stay for breakfast? Pleaaaaaseee?"  
Frank asked if in about an hour was ok and got a yes.   
Frank sighed, "She said one more hour is ok."  
Gerard made a noise of celebration then wrangled Frank to his feet. "We better go quickly then!"

They went to the kitchen where Gerard put some coffee into the works right away. He then gathered a few bowls and ingredients onto the counter.   
"Have you made pancakes before?"  
Frank shook his head.   
"What a good time to start, then," Gerard replied, smiling, making Frank also smile.   
Gerard gave Frank a measuring cup. "Put two of these into that bowl over there."  
They stirred up all the ingredients and got a pan going on the stove, the coffee pot loudly brewing next to them. 

"Now comes the hard part," Gerard reported, fishing a spatula out of a drawer.   
"You pour a bit of batter into the pan, like into a circle, then you wait for it to be cool to flip. I'll help you with that part."

They waited while the batter began to form a little bit into a solid shape. Gerard was guiding the spatula in Frank's hand toward it when Ray and Mikey waddled up to the kitchen sleepily. "Did you save any coffee?"  
"I'm well this morning, thanks for asking," Gerard answered without looking up.   
Mikey made a 'nyeh' sound and went for the coffee pot while Ray sat with his unruly head of hair at the table.

Mikey approached and saw the pancake supplies. He looked at the picture of his brother over Frank as he gave a little too much help in flipping a pancake and shook his head. "What is this, fucking mini golf?" he mumbled to himself.   
"I heard that," Gerard replied, still not looking up. "Okay, so, you loosen it up on all sides, right?" Frank nodded. "Then you can just shove it under-" he pushed Frank's arm in a swift motion, "and... Flip it!" He let go of Frank's arm. Frank stuck his tongue out in effort as he flipped the spatula. The pancake hissed as it landed. It was a little bit folded at one part, but Gerard still excitedly praised Frank, "LOOK AT YOU!! Good job." 

They finished off the batter and soon had a respectable stack of pancakes. They set it down on the table where the two other boys made unenthusiastic 'yaay' sounds. Gerard rolled his eyes and got the dishes, syrup and butter. He sat back down and then said,   
"Okay, Frank- you did the most work so you get first pick."   
Frank felt his stomach clench as they all watched him. He just slid the top pancake onto his plate as he blushed.   
"Thanks," he muttered.   
He made cutting gestures into his plate as the others ate around him. 

After about fifteen minutes, Gerard looked to Frank's plate and sighed. He said kind of quietly, "Come on, man. Can't you eat a little?"   
Frank replied, also quietly, "I don't get hungry in the morning." Just then his stomach decided to growl at him. He cursed at his body. Gerard just looked away sadly. 

Frank pulled up his phone again, looking at the time. "I've got to go now, I think." Gerard nodded and stood up from the table. "Mikey, make sure you clean up a bit. I'm taking Frank home now."   
Mikey just gazed at his plate, head resting on his hand, "This division of labor seems a little unfair..,"   
Gerard walked toward the living room, smacking Mikey in the back of the head, to which the blonde have an overdramatic 'OW!' 

The ride was short. Neither of them said very much as the car rumbled on. Frank just stared out the window. He couldn't help but feeling like he ruined the fun this morning with his stupid eating problem. When they arrived, Frank finally looked to Gerard, holding his pile of clothes from last night in his hand, still wearing the oversized pajamas. "Thanks for last night. Sorry for being weird."   
"Hey, don't worry about the sleep walking. It was cute." 

Frank blushed and nodded, not specifying that he meant the breakfast part. He looked to his hands that were twisting together in nerves. He saw a more pale hand interrupt as it clasped over the two. When he looked back, Gerard's friendly smile had decayed into only a faint one as he focused on the boy across from him.   
"Don't feel bad about the food either, Frank. I'm not mad. Just worried. But I understand."  
Frank just smiled at his friend. His shame suddenly turned to butterflies as he felt himself stare at the boy staring back. Frank felt his body lose feeling. He saw Gerard getting closer as both of them moved in. They stopped when they touched foreheads, warm against each other. Gerard gave Frank's cheek a little rub, and they pulled apart. They both could tell this wasn't quite right. Not yet.

Frank stood in the driveway as Gerard left, watching his car go. Before he could turn inside, a new car was replacing its spot- a car he didn't recognize. A social- worker looking lady emerged from the car, pulling out a purse and a clipboard. She paused when she saw Frank, automatically smiling. "Hello," she beamed. Frank could smell her 'subtle' perfume from where he stood. He gave her a grin, imagining that this was awkward for her. "Hi."

After a few moments, the front door opened and Cynthia emerged. "Hi, Ms. Ferdinand. Frank, I'm glad you made it home. We had a bit of a... Situation." 

The back door of the car suddenly opened. Frank watched as a tall and muscular boy with striking blonde hair and blue eyes stepped out. He wore a white button up shirt and looked very neat. He looked intense as he smiled wide. 

"Frank, this is a boy we decided to take in on short notice. His stay could be permanent or temporary- we're not sure yet." Frank quirked an eyebrow, just like Gerard always did at him. The boy moved swiftly forward, taking Frank's hand in his. "Hi, Frank. I'm Benjamin." Frank's tried not to wince at the power in the handshake, his hand a little crushed.   
"Hey," Frank replied, shaking his hand off a bit.

They all went into the house- the adults in the kitchen to do paperwork and all the kids in the living room. They all stared at Benjamin, not knowing what to say- but the boy's smile never faltered. It spooked Frank a bit, but he didn't want to be judgmental. Maybe he was just nervous. 

After about 10 minutes of this, the adults finally joined them, alleviating the tension a little. Ms. Ferdinand gave Benjamin a final and concise summary, and was soon out the door and on her way. That's when the parents spoke up. "Frank, Benjamin- can we see you two in the kitchen?" The two rose and obediently went and sat at the kitchen table.   
"Frank, the reason we wanted you home with all of this is because Benjamin will be rooming with you. Is that ok?"

Frank nodded, not wishing to make his new foster brother feel like an outsider- he knew how that could be. This made his foster parents smile- they had obviously anticipated conflict from one of them. "Great! Why don't you all go out for a bit. We'll drive you to the mall so you can show Benjamin around the town and get to know each other. Well, after you change, Frank."

He nodded. "I'll show Ben our room," he said, offering a smile. The tall boy promptly followed Frank when he left up the stairs. Once they were in the bedroom, Ben hardly looked around. He seemed more interested in Frank as he watched him gather clothes from his closet. Well, their closet now. Frank felt the eyes on him and shifted his eyes around.   
"Uh, I don't really use the dresser, so would you be ok fitting your clothes in that?"

The boy just smiled and nodded wordlessly. Frank gave a nod in response as he stepped away to the bathroom. He knew the other boy followed him with his eyes as he walked across to the door. Before he could leave, Ben spoke up.   
"Oh, Frank." Frank turned to look at him again. "You called me 'Ben' in the living room a few moments ago. My name is Benjamin. Is that clear?" He wasn't smiling anymore. Frank couldn't tell which expression he preferred. 

Frank just nodded again, feeling smaller and smaller in the presence of this person. He knew already that he would be trying to avoid Benjamin in the future. He realized he was still staring when the blonde boy gave him a little wave out the door, his smile now back, bringing out a line in his face only on the left side. 

The day passed differently than Frank expected. Benjamin started loosening up and acting more normal. Frank felt a little better about his new sibling by the time they came back home for dinner. 

Cynthia's husband dragged forth an extra chair to the table for the new addition as they all sat to eat. Frank didn't notice the chair had been placed next to him until Benjamin's large form was lowering down at his side. He loudly commented on the dinner and how good it looked, making Cynthia blush. The meal was Quiche with mashed potatoes and salad. Though, of course, that hardly mattered to Frank. 

When he served himself, he used the trick of spreading the food out so it looked like he had a full plate and then picked at that for a while. It had been working well so far. He noticed Benjamin glancing at his plate throughout dinner- at least between his lively talking and charming laughter. It made Frank feel left out, as he was horrible at talking, but he appreciated it to some extent. It made it easier to remain invisible. 

When all of dinner was cleaned up, Frank excused himself upstairs to do homework while everyone else stayed downstairs and watched TV together. He would've stayed, but he was absolutely drained from both yesterday and today. A lot had happened, he realized. His mother understood and let him leave. He knew Benjamin was watching as he left, but he tried not to think anything of it. 

Frank lost himself in his school work, listening to music on his phone, and soon finished everything he had to do. He was reading ahead in the chemistry book when he felt his phone buzz with a text.  
'i'm calling the police- you stole my Star Wars pjs !'   
Frank giggled and laid back on the floor where he had been sitting in concentration.   
'well, I didn't want to get stuck with the awful cat shirt, but I had no choice. It seemed like an all or nothing deal'  
G: ...  
G: first you steal from me.  
G: and then  
G: you insult me??  
F: ok, I'm sorry. Please don't turn me in.  
F: I love the cat shirt.   
G: that's what I thought. How was your day  
F: busy. I got a new foster brother.  
G: oh! Is he cool?  
F: he better be- I have to share a room with him.  
G: woah! Should I be. Uh. Worried about this guy?  
F: ew, gross. that's like incest  
G: HEeey there BuDDy; YOU are the one jumping to assumptions now!

Frank giggled again.   
"That doesn't sound like homework."  
Benjamin was at the door, smiling again. Frank tugged his headphones out as he sat up.   
"Oh, yeah. I finished."   
Benjamin glanced over the papers and books on the floor and turned away to inspect his new bed, which had been moved to their room today. He found his suitcase and began to unpack into the dresser. Frank looked away and texted back, 'Hey dude, Gtg. I'm pretty tired XP'.   
G: Aww. Ok. See you later B)

Frank smiled uneasily as he put his phone away. He looked to the other boy and watched him. He started to clean up the homework scattered on the floor. When he looked back to Benjamin's bed, he was gone. Frank guessed he must have left to shower. 

He quickly got into his own bed and tried to fall asleep quickly. It was early still, but he was tired from the night before. He told himself he was just being paranoid. That's what anyone would say. Frank knew, though, that he wasn't just anyone. 

***************************************

The next morning came slowly. Frank kept waking up through the night. He didn't know if it was because of his new roommate or because of what was scheduled at 12:00 the next day- therapy. It was his first session with the new one he was required to have by law. He's always hated it. He wasn't a fan of acknowledging his past, and he hated how he didn't get a choice. The therapists always knew about him before he could choose to tell them. He hated knowing what they wanted from him. He hated the looks of pity. Pretending they understood. Nobody understood. 

Cynthia dropped him off in a parking lot a short way from the office. It was chilly and windy today. His scarf blew to his side and his teeth chattered. Frank tried to dress a little nicer today to give off the impression that he was a-ok to his therapist. He was wearing a nice blue autumn coat on top of a thick dark brown sweater and fingerless gloves on his hands. He even combed his hair back behind his ears- though he could feel it escaping and resuming its true form as he walked. 

He walked up a creaky narrow staircase of a boring beige. It smelled sterile. He found a door at the top of the stairs that read 'Dr. Schloss- Pediatric Psychiatry'. It looked like it was made of sea glass. He stepped into the waiting room. 

There wasn't much to look at as he waited in the leather chair shaped like a tilted tea cup. There were two doors on either side. He wasn't sure which was the one he'd be going into. He reached around the doorknob and turned slowly. 

Sound suddenly burst from the other door and he snatched his hand away as it opened and what looked like an entire family walked out, still speaking. Frank tried not to look- he knew some people were embarrassed about attending. 

He waited until he heard them leave and close the door before looking up at the therapist. She was younger with soft brown hair with a dark blue dress. She had neither glasses nor toe shoes. This was more common than one would hope. 

She was smiling. "You must be Frank. How are you?"  
He nodded and forced a small smile.   
"Let's step into this room, shall we?"  
Frank moved into the 'office' and settled down on the couch farthest from where she'd be sitting. He was watching his hands twist around again. They were pink. 

He heard her settle. He still didn't look up.   
"So, Frank. You're good today?" He nodded.   
"That's good. Have you been adjusting to the new home ok?"   
He nodded again.   
"What about the school. Is everyone there nice?"   
This time he shook his head.   
"Is anyone nice?"  
He nodded again. 

She sighed. "I've noticed I'm the only one talking. Do you dislike therapy?"  
Frank hesitated and then nodded.   
"And why is that?"   
He clenched his teeth and looked up at her face, searching. She looked calm.   
"I don't like pretending."  
She narrowed her eyes a little. "Can you be more specific?"

"I don't like pretending that I don't hate being here. I don't like pretending that I don't know why I'm here or that you don't know all about me. I don't like pretending that I believe there's something I can hear or say that will fix me. And I sure as hell can't pretend to myself that I'm getting better."

The woman just stared at Frank. He stared back. He noticed his leg was bouncing up and down. 

"I know I have to try in order for this to work. But trust me. I've been trying my whole life to make things better." 

The woman thought for a bit then nodded. Frank knew this was pretending she understood. 

"I don't doubt that you try, Frank. And if you want, we can go straight to the heart of the issue here."

He just shook his head vigorously, looking down again. He pinched the skin on his wrist. He wouldn't cry. 

"I won't force you to do anything, Frank. We don't even have to talk for now. I can tell you're having a bad day."

He stopped fidgeting and looked up suddenly.   
"We can talk about school".


	15. Halloween Part 1

Be a good boy, Frank

Five hundred for the whole night

Don't you want to keep me? Wake up next to me? 

Just five hundred for the night

I'll be a good boy

Don't you want to keep me?

Frank felt his hand slam into the wall behind his head as the stale beep of his alarm clock sounded. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. This was the last day he wanted to wake up to. 

His birthday. 

"You didn't think I'd forget, did you?" Gerard had said yesterday at lunch. "I may not be the best with stuff like this, but come on. You have a Halloween birthday. How could I forget?" Frank had faked a smile and pretended it was just a matter of being shy, just like he had all those years ago on his twelfth birthday and every birthday since. 

He got ready, hoping with all he was worth that his foster family hadn't caught on and that they'd miss the significance of the day. He put on two layers and looked in the mirror. Still ugly. Too skinny, too. He added a hoodie to bring him to a normal size.

Two or three years had been with families he had come to right around his birthday. That means they hadn't gotten to know and dislike Frank before October 31st rolled around.   
"We made you a dinner reservation for the special day!"   
"We made you waffles for the big one- four!"   
Frank scoffed to himself.   
Never once had anyone said "We promise to stay your family for more than 1 year!" He supposed he would've liked to hear that at one point. It was just wishful thinking by now.

He braced himself as he walked down the stairs where the others in the house were already acquainting themselves with the kitchen. He crept in as silently as possible and sat down at the table. The other three kids paid him no mind as his foster father busied himself with coffee. Benjamin, of course, eyed him, but Frank had gotten used to it at this point. The coast looked clear until Cynthia smiled when she saw him. There it was. 

"Happy Halloween!" she said. His three siblings giggled while Frank was busy being first surprised then confused. Breakfast passed normally, Benjamin entertaining everyone with retellings of his hilarious dreams and Frank eyeing his foster parents suspiciously. When they all left to walk to school, he was almost too dazed to get up. He blankly started out the door with his backpack. 

"Hey Frank, aren't you forgetting something?" Aha. Finally. But instead of wishing him happy birthday, Cynthia instead held up his pill bottle and shook it. Oh. 

"Right," Frank said, pretending to swallow them, still watching his foster mom. After a bout of staring between them that lasted a little too long, she sighed. "Listen, Frank, we know what today is." He looked to her husband, Bill, who was now paying more attention. He just watched them, not knowing what the right thing to do was. She carefully put a hand on his shoulder. He stood still. 

"Your social worker let us know that this day could be hard for you. Bill and I wanted you to know that we respect this, and that if you want us to ignore it completely, we will. Your siblings don't know anything- only us." When Frank only kept his eyes set on her, she spoke up again. "Is that what you want?"

Frank simply nodded and made eye contact with both parents. Cynthia smiled, "Okay, then. Today is just Halloween- ok?"  
Frank nodded again, still at a loss for words. They said goodbye again to him as he made his way out the door. He stopped once he was on the front stoop, gazing hard at nothing on the ground. 'Huh,' he thought. He wasn't sure what this meant. 

His two siblings had gotten a head start, so he ended up strolling alone to school, gazing calmly at the orange leaves around him. He couldn't get caught up in the past. It was going to be easy to do that today.

He made it to the school pretty quickly and didn't miss a step as he went to his locker as he had everyday. He was relieved to see it was blank. Though he hadn't pegged Gerard as the type to decorate lockers, he had figured he had an extra line of defense in that he only had known the boy for a few weeks. 

When he opened the locker, though, a piece of paper about the size of a book mark fluttered down to his feet. He picked it up curiously and started reading-  
'Happy 16th! Can't wait to see you today.   
-G'

He smiled at the note. The other boy had also drawn a little spooky graveyard at the bottom of the paper as a border. He felt the little bats in his stomach scatter about as he remembered his... Friend. 

A meaty hand suddenly grabbed at his shoulder, pushing him downward as he was kicked in the back of his knees. He crumpled involuntarily to the ground, inconspicuously shoving the note in his front pocket. He heard his buddy Connor laughing amongst a chorus of LAX bros above him. Frank pretended to care as he internally rolled his eyes. 

"Oops, sorry, didn't see you there. Hopefully I didn't hurt your knees- your boyfriend would kill me if you couldn't get down on them anymore."

Frank just sighed.

Ever since word had spread about Frank and Gerard outside at the dance, Frank hadn't been able to catch a break from his bully, who capitalized on it every chance he got. His vague 'faggot' insults were now uncomfortably detailed and... sort of gay? The bully seemed to be shoving him on his knees a lot and wasn’t shy on referencing bjs whenever he saw him. He kept these thoughts to himself, though. 

"See you in gym class, fairy."

Oh, boy. He was looking forward to that. 

And with that, the morning passed without further incident. Nobody mentioned Frank's birthday- not that they would know. Either way, he was grateful. Lunch was another story, however. Frank knew Gerard was inevitably going to mention it, get him something, etc. For some reason he couldn't exactly place, though, he wasn't dreading the interaction as he made his way to lunch. It's like his whole life every person he met could be separated into two categories- Gerard and Not Gerard. He just made Frank feel so different. Life felt real again, but not in a way that hurt. 

It was a little cold outside. Frank was beginning to wonder where they'd all eat lunch when it was frozen outside. He hoped they weren't the type to go outside even when it was below 0. He didn't have enough body fat for that. 

The other three boys didn't seem to notice Frank until he actually sat down next to them.   
"No, guys, I'm serious. You can't judge 'American Idiot' as a musical before you actually see it- oh hey Frank!" Ray cut himself off as he spotted the small boy smiling shyly across from him. Gerard turned to face Frank, grinning. He scooted over to his friend on the grass, casually slinging a hand across his shoulders as he squeezed them. Frank couldn't look him in the face as he blushed. 

"Ew, gross. Right in front of us? And on this holy day?" Mikey complained with a scrunch of his face.   
"I have to agree- you're being a little bold for public school in broad daylight right now," Ray added, shifting his eyes around to see if anyone was looking.  
Gerard groaned, "You guys don't actually care about the rumors, do you?"  
Ray shrugged, "It's a little hard not to."   
"Especially when the rumors are real," Mikey mumbled, more than to himself. 

Gerard rolled his eyes and backed off- for now. Frank was finally able to breathe again. Gerard quickly took it away again when he grabbed Frank's hand instead.  
"Oh- happy birthday, dude," Mikey said in passing. Ray threw one in as well.   
"Oh, thanks," Frank said, trying to sound casual, picking at his shoes. Gerard smiled and squeezed Frank's hand.   
"Oh! I have another thing to give you."  
"Don't even think about doing that here," Mikey teased. Gerard threw some brown grass at him. 

Gerard slipped him a folded piece of paper, bigger than the one he'd found in his locker. It had a little illustration of a dog on the front with Frank's name in the center. Frank opened it and saw a glance of words before Gerard stopped him.   
"No! Don't read it now." He sideways glanced to his brother and Ray who had continued their argument about the Green Day musical. Frank nodded and put it along with the other note in his pocket. 

They rejoined hands and turned to Mikey and Ray. "There's a reason nobody has illegally filmed it, Ray. It's a shitty musical," Gerard chimed in. Ray looked defeated. He tried to explain that maybe the Broadway cast was shitty, but there's no way the album could turn into something bad. "Why do you care so much about this?" Mikey asked.   
Frank giggled as he looked down at where he was clutching Gerard's hand.

Gerard saw Frank looking down and in a matter of seconds pulled his hand away, yanking his sleeve down and holding his arm. He rubbed at his hand and started spewing out apologies. "Sorry, sorry, sorry I just- I- I- cut my arm on an-a, uh. Thing in art today." 

Frank looked at him, confused. The conversation had stopped around them. Gerard noticed but pretended the other two weren't staring at him.   
"Dude," is all Mikey said, shaking his head in disappointment. Ray looked sullen too, pursing his lips as he looked at his friend.   
"No, seriously guys. It was an accident." He still wouldn't look at them.   
Frank wasn’t stupid dumb- he knew what was going on. But he also knew how to mind his own business.   
"I just gotta... Keep pressure on it, guys." 

The rest of lunch was awkward. Everyone talked quieter and Frank kept watching Gerard, who could tell. It was the same throughout band as well. Finally, when they had to separate for eighth period they stopped in front of the gym. Without warning, Gerard pulled Frank into a sudden hug.  
"I'll see you later. I'm sorry." Frank was caught by surprise and tried to hug back but Gerard was already gone. He just turned towards the locker room to get changed.

Luckily, he had finished changing before many others even arrived. He hated gym because he wasn't allowed to wear as much clothing as he normally did, showcasing his ugly skinny body. He hated looking so vulnerable. He hated how the guy who loved to agitate him was here to see it, too. 

This whole week, they had had the option of walking on the track or playing lacrosse. Having a pretty good idea of what Connor would choose, Frank just walked the track, even getting to wear his hoodie because of the cold. He had avoided the conflict the whole week for this reason, and he was starting to believe he might get away with it- by some birthday/Halloween miracle. Connor hadn't even given him a passing glance the whole period. 

As the period was ending, Frank went to the bathroom to change. When he was pulling on his pants, one of the notes he had stuffed in his pocket fell out and slipped under the door. He sighed and finished getting dressed so he could retrieve it. 

When he left the stall, though, he didn’t see it. He looked around for a bit before shrugging it off. The note was vague enough that it wasn't a big deal if someone found it. And the second one-   
oh no. 

He dug around in his pocket and pulled out the note that hadn't fallen. Oh god. It was the one from his locker. He dropped to the floor, looking around frantically. 

Before he could hear anyone approaching, he was being lifted and then pinned against the wall. Frank, of course, was met with the faces of Connor and some kid he couldn't care enough to distinguish. The bell rang overhead, seeming to mock Frank, as the folded piece of paper was lifted in front of his face.   
"Looking for this?" 

Frank didn't respond as he stared back. Connor was so close he could smell his weird scent of BO and “straight”(?) guy. He unfolded the note slowly and his expression grew a little too into it as he read over. Frank was just surprised he could read. 

"No way." His lackey shifted a bit behind him, trying to see what he was talking about. Frank was mortified- he didn't even know what the note said. 

"No fucking way! The rumor's true! You're fucking that freak that tries to kill himself every other week!" The two bullies cracked up like a couple of headless chickens. Frank was a little caught off guard. Was that true? He hadn't thought Gerard was depressed at all before today. But now all this was coming out...

"Oh my god," Connor said, delivering a swift punch to Frank's stomach with the last word. "Now I really have the right to mess you up, huh?" He grabbed Frank's shoulders and shoved him onto the ground so that he was staring right at a crotch. He closed his eyes and gulped. 

A hand grabbed at his hair, forcing him to look up. Connor started making crude thrusting motions while laughing like an idiot. Frank felt humiliated. His face kept getting pushed into the hard material of jeans as he tried to pull away. Another birthday on his knees. A little more dignity lost to some fucking idiot. Who gave them the right. Was he really that weak?

He saw a flash of white and suddenly clenched his teeth, ripping the sweaty hands off himself as he got back on his feet. He realized now how pissed he was. He didn’t have time for this shit. 

He tore the note from Connor's hand and shot him a piercing glare.  
"Fuck. Off. If I’m gay, it’s not for you.”

With no further words, he turned and walked to get his backpack. The two boys only stared before they came to their senses. 

"What did you fucking say to me??" Connor screamed, storming over. He grabbed Frank by the shoulder, trying to push him, but Frank had already started swinging his backpack for Connor's head. He heard it hit and a body fall to the ground but didn't turn to look and hurried out the door. The late bell rang as he stormed down the hallway to his English class. English class? Fuck. No. He was too mad for fucking English class. He wished he had kept hitting Connor with his bag. Or a shovel. Until he bled. Until he knew what it felt like to feel real pain. Nobody knew real pain. 

He found himself walking aimlessly down hallways. He started to feel nauseous and made a sharp turn into a bathroom nearby. He ran into a stall and immediately started dry heaving. He felt his stomach swell and spasm as his eyes teared up. He leaned weakly over the toilet and breathed until the feeling overtook him again. By the time he stopped, his nose and eyes were running and the bell signaling the end of the day was ringing. He wiped his face sloppily and sped out of the bathroom towards the exit. He just wanted to see Gerard


	16. Halloween Part 2

Frank texted Gerard to meet at the car and made his way out to the parking lot. The air was cold but he liked how it stung his face. He could feel himself shaking now, but not from the fall weather. He knew people were probably looking but he didn’t care enough to notice them. He found Gerard's car and crawled into the passenger seat as the first of his tears started to squeeze their way out. He let out a desperate noise as he fell into his hands, sobbing. It was this giant wave of panic that he couldn't stop. He just wanted it to stop. 

He started to hyperventilate as he grabbed at his hair in fists, tears still drenching his face. He heard a door open beside him but couldn't bring himself to look up at it. He hated when people saw him cry. Gerard's soothing voice finally spoke to him, "Hey, hey... What's going on?" He pulled Frank close to himself and pet his hair, hushing him. Frank managed to calm himself down after 3 more minutes of this, finally steadying his breath and pulling his hands away from his face. 

He wiped at his eyes and nose for a bit before finally looking at Gerard, who was looking right back at him in worry. What could've gone so wrong on his birthday?   
"Are you ok?" he offered. Frank just shook his head and leaned back into Gerard's grasp. “That’s a fucking stupid question,” Frank mumbled. 

They breathed in the quiet. Gerard just kept petting at his Frank's hair. Frank was sniffling now into Gerard's chest. The panic attack had tired him out.

Gerard, of course, had no clue where this was coming from, but he didn't have to. Frank would tell him if he wanted but he wasn't going to force him. He'd never seen him remotely like this, so he was guessing whatever was getting to him had to be pretty big. It was easy to infer that Frank's life hadn't been the best so far, but he still didn't know the details. 

Frank pulled away, now just wiping his nose, and Gerard just watched him. He felt safe in this car, away from everything. He stared out the window at the passing bodies. "Can we just go home?" 

Gerard immediately started up the car and just beat the busses as he drove back to his own house. The drive was quiet. Gerard could see Frank just gazing out the window. Even when they got to Gerard's house, Frank didn't move. Gerard thought he was asleep. He sighed and climbed out of the car, coming to Frank's door. It turns out he wasn't asleep at all and just staring at the glovebox like he was in a sad music video.

Gerard opened the passenger door and leaned over to unbuckle Frank's seatbelt. Frank was just looking at him now through half-opened eyes. Gerard held out his arms and Frank gave a little nod. Gerard couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Frank was in the moping stage now and, yes, he wanted Gerard to carry him in. Gerard picked him up bridal style and kicked the door behind him closed. Frank hid his face against Gerard's shoulder. Now, Gerard knew he wasn't the strongest guy by a long shot, but carrying Frank felt like he was only pretending to carry a person. He was so light. It was adorable. And kind of concerning...

He struggled his way through the front door without making the ride too bumpy. The first thing he heard when he stepped into the living room was, "Oh, come on."   
Ray and Mikey had, apparently, beaten he and Frank home and could see the two walk into the house from the kitchen. Gerard paused only for a moment before sticking his tongue out towards his goblin of a brother and continuing to the couch where he laid Frank down, who just curled up and hugged a pillow that he snagged from nearby. Gerard ruffled his hair and sighed, joining his friends in the kitchen. Frank let him leave- he needed some alone time. 

"Oh, good. It looked like you were about to deflower the friggin princess," Mikey mumbled. This earned his a slap to the back of the head, of course.

After a few hours of the three in the kitchen playing some very half-hearted DND, as three person DND often is, it was time to start getting ready. They were all going to a Halloween party at Jackie's house, who advertised that her parents would not be home, if you would believe it. Frank's foster mom was all caught up and told Frank he could stay out as long as he was careful and in someone's house by 12. Sometimes Frank questioned her parenting policies. 

"I have a couple of black capes... Ooh- what about a pirate?" Gerard asked, pulling out a short sleeved striped tee. Frank just shrugged.   
"Yeah. That's kind of lame. Hmm, let's see... We could always go with the classic vampire- werewolf combo...". He was secretly hoping Frank would choose werewolf. He'd really look like a teddy bear if he had cuddly little wolf ears added to his usual appearance. He tried to hide his excitement when Frank agreed.   
"Before you put the ears on though, my dear Frank, comes make up." He led Frank over to a chair in his room and began gathering face paints and make up palettes from different drawers.

Frank let his face be painted, having time to wonder if giving Gerard total agency was a wise idea.   
“There. Go look in the mirror.”  
Frank was met with the image of a really cool but really gay werewolf. His nose had the predictable black dot on it but his eyes had stamps of blue and silver surrounding them. He studied himself and tried to imagine what an outside observer might presume about him from this look.   
“Am I supposed to look like a furry?” Frank asked, turning to Gerard.  
“Uh.... no? But I can change...”  
“Oh, god, shut up. It’s great. It’s just, um.... not what I expected.”  
“I tried to keep it in bounds.”  
“I think you broke your own rule, then,” Frank said as he reached over for the wolf ears. Putting them on, he gave a big smile to Gerard, who was a little caught off guard.   
“Your smile could cure depression, friend,” he added, looking off to his own costume. 

When they were ready to go, they called for Mikey and Ray who, of course, had a lot to say about Frank’s look. They all shuttled into the car and were at Jackie’s within five minutes. 

Frank thought the house looked a lot like the scene from ‘Home Alone’ where the kid has to use fake people and music to make it look like there was a party from the outside. It made him feel a bit nervous that this was a party party. He heard car doors opening and shutting to bring him back to the present. 

He lagged behind the other three who had either forgotten about him or were giving him space. He poked at his nose to itch it before feeling the paint rub off onto his fingers. He stared at the smudged black for a bit and heard the noise from inside grow towards him. His instinct was to flee, but when he looked up, Gerard was looking back at him.  
He tsked, “You already fucked it up, Frank.” Frank felt a sense of dread. Gerard seemed to notice and quickly followed up with, “Your make up! Ya little dummy.” Frank gave a nervous smile, wiped the black off his fingers and let a breath out of his nose. 

The light in the house was dim and the air was heavy with sweat and intoxicated breath. It smelled like what Frank imagined the word “high school” smelled like. Gerard was being surprisingly social (“Danny? Danny! Daaannnyyyy!!!”) and Frank could only really look on with a quaint smile. 

There was a half and half split of people wearing normal clothes and people wearing costumes, though Frank didn’t have time to appreciate any as they walked through the crowd. Gerard looked back occasionally to make sure Frank wasn’t dead. But Frank wasnt sure if he’d even slow his pace if that were to happen. Eventually, like on a woodsy hike through weeds and swamps, the two came to a clearing- the kitchen. Frank could feel a cold sweat thinly sheeting his skin already but kept his lips tightly closed as he tried to keep up with his senses. 

Gerard let out a deep breath and smiled at Frank, waiting for a response. Frank looked at Gerard as if he’d never seen him before; he held himself taller and seemed so energized by everyone. Frank had just assumed his friend was as antisocial as he was, but he’d never actually seen him around a crowded casual setting like this. The school dance was kind of an exception but it had still been at school, so the circumstance wasn’t quite the same. He, on the other side of things, felt completely out of his element.

He smiled nervously and just hoped he was convincing. Gerard didn’t seem to notice anything.   
“Man, these things are always crazy,” he said, raising a red cup to his face. Wait, what red cup? Where did he get that? Alcohol made things make a little more sense, at least. 

“You want anything to drink? You haven’t eaten, like, ever. Not in a bad way it’s just like, are you a vampire?” Gerard was gazing off to the tiles on the floor. Frank didn’t feel like he should answer. Instead he just started laughing and hopped up to sit on the counter. 

Gerard turned to look at him. It was a look that made Frank hold his breath.   
“You look scared,” Gerard said, coming closer. Frank really couldn’t breathe now. Suddenly a hand was on his leg. Another was trailing up his side to his neck. Gerard leaned in and whispered,   
“Did you read my note?” Frank let out a ‘no’ sound. He was about to have a stroke.  
“Well,” Gerard continued, “I have to show you then.”   
Frank was closing his eyes now. He took a deep breath and waited for the pressure on his lips but it didn’t come. After ten seconds, a suspenseful pause turned into a ‘what’s going on’. Frank peeked one eye open to see Gerard leaned over and looking at his phone, scrolling through the notes.   
“I know I wrote it here somewhere,” he muttered to himself. Frank let out a long sigh. Gerard finally gave up and shrugged. “It said my present is in the works/mail but should be getting here soon.”

The door to the kitchen flew open. “Hey guys! I’m so glad you could make it!” Jackie ran over, dressed in white clothes with paint splattered all over them and a beret.  
“What are you dressed as?” asked Frank. Gerard and Jackie looked at him like he had just said the Earth was flat.  
“Jackson Pollock!” they said together. 

“I doubt he dressed like th-“

“Oh!” Jackie interrupted, “You guys to come down to the basement. We’re watching ‘Human Centipede’.” 

“I tried to watch that once. It’s so gross and unrealistic. They call the doctor a psychopath to excuse his weird shit but that’s not how psychopaths are at all.” Gerard took another sip of his drink like he was at a fine dinner party. 

“Horror movies aren’t supposed to make sense, asshole,” Jackie said, rolling her eyes. She then smirked and leaned in to whisper something in Gerard’s ear. His expression perked up. 

“Actually, Frank, ‘Human Centipede’ is a classic. We should go to the basement, like, now.”

“O-okay.” Frank couldn’t keep up as Gerard grabbed his hand and fast walked to the steps going downstairs. Frank caught Jackie’s grin as they flew past. 

The light narrowed in and faded away as they ran down the steps. It was pretty dark at the bottom where a door separated them from the gore porn. As soon as the opened the door, Frank was hit with a familiar smell that was like BO mixed with existentialism- weed. Lighting only pertained of a few desk lamps and those weird bubbly Christmas lights that look like little lava lamps. The movie playing on the flat screen wasn’t even ‘Human Centipede’. It was ‘Ratatouille’. 

Gerard didn’t seem to mind, though. Or notice. He immediately made his way to a group of people sitting on bean bags that Frank couldn’t recognize. There were two boys- one with a top hat and steam punk goggles and the other with crazy-straw glasses- and a girl with long dark hair whose eyes slowly moved to Frank. 

“Heyyyy,” the steam-punk kid drawled, “Gerard!”   
“Hey, Sam!” Gerard and the kid did a straight guy handshake. Now Frank was really lost. 

“This is my friend, Frank.” All their eyes turned to Frank, who gave a peachy smile and a little wave. He was too worn out to be awkward.   
“Nice!” Sam replied, motioning for them to sit. Gerard sat on the floor while Frank took the choice seat of a mini Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sofa.   
“Did you know it’s Frank’s birthday?” 

“It’s my birthday two months ago...” the crazy-straw kid muttered. 

“On Halloween? I don’t believe it. You just want free weed, don’t you.” 

“No shit, dude! Frank, tell him.” 

“Yeah,” Frank said, “I’m turning 10 today. Ten years old.” 

Sam laughed, “Okay, I believe you. I would’ve given it to you anyway.” He threw a small bag at Gerard. “He’s using you for weed,” Sam warned Frank. 

“I know. This is the third time it’s happened.” Sam laughed and Gerard smiled to himself as he rolled a joint. It looked like shit. 

Frank felt a hand on his arm and turned to see the girl was touching him. “I’m Veronica,” she said. Frank nodded. “I’m reallllly stoned,” she said, trying to sound stoned. ‘Great’, Frank thought, ‘my favorite type of person’. 

The crazy-straw kid giggled. “You ate one square inch of a brownie, Ronnie. Three days ago!” Sam and Gerard burst out laughing and Frank stifled his own. Veronica tried her best to look mad.   
“Shut up!” Her hand was now on Frank’s. She gave it a squeeze. Frank cleared his throat and looked over to Gerard.   
“Can I have one?” He over-gestured as an excuse to shake the girl’s hand off. Gerard looked a little surprised, “Really?”   
Frank nodded. 

Gerard rolled another crappy blunt, this one a little better than the last. He handed it to Frank and pulled out a little white BIC lighter.   
“God dammit. I always forget how to use these things,” Gerard muttered, fumbling with the mechanisms. Frank plucked it out of his hand and rolled the lighter into a flame in one try. He offered the flame to Gerard, who sat in impressed silence, and then lit his own. 

He deeply inhaled the smoke and closed his eyes, holding it for a while. When he finally let it out Gerard was staring at him, wide-eyed.   
“I’m a foster kid. Of course I’ve smoked weed before.” Gerard was the one to smile nervously now, throwing a hand through his hair as if to brush away his thoughts. 

“What’s that like?” Gerard asked, looking to his friend. Frank looked around the circle and none of the others were paying any mind to their conversation. Veronica was on her phone and the other two were giggling about the Pixar movie. 

Frank took another deep drag and let the smoke out of his nose. He could feel it starting to work through his small body. He always somehow forgot what a lightweight he was.

“Not eventful. Parents always want you to call them ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ and you just get to choose not to. It’s kind of like they can’t make you do anything. It’s like they’re scared of you for a month and then they get tired of you.” He was closing his eyes to concentrate on keeping his train of thought. 

“How could they get tired of you?” 

Frank scoffed. Some snot came out of his nose. “Oh my god, right? No, wait, I can be a shit hole. I can be. I try not to be but they’re always like ‘Frank, tell me about yourself so I know you won’t kill our family tonight’, and I’m always like, ‘Fuck youuu, Stacy’”. 

Gerard laughed. Frank joined in too. “I don’t get tired of you,” Gerard stated. 

“You might,” Frank said, a little sadly. “You might.”

He started thinking about his life, his day, Connor. He was gonna get his ass kicked on Monday. Ha! He finished off his blunt and promptly stood up, tumbling onto Gerard in the process. 

“Dude, we have to go get our asses kicked,” he whispered, inches away from Gerard’s face. 

“What?” Gerard asked, covered a boy he was very attracted to.

“We... n...we gotta go dance. Quick!” Frank grabbed Gerard’s pointer finger and began to run up the stairs. He yelled out when they reached the dance floor. Gerard just tried not to fall over. 

Frank grabbed Gerard in a hug and hopped around with him for around five minutes. They both laughed the whole time. Here, nobody was staring at them. They were just one spinning peg in a whole sea of high teenagers. 

Gerard took Frank’s hands like a classy ballroom dancer and held him close. Frank felt at ease. Weed was magic. At one point, Frank decided he just wanted to spin in circles. He broke away from Gerard, giggling, and started to do just that. He looked up at the ceiling move over him and closed his eyes, colors swimming in his vision. Today, he turned 17. The age of consent. He could’ve used consent a while ago. 

He began to shake, thinking about the cold nights in trunks and with strangers. He barely felt alive. He couldn’t feel anything but heat on his cheeks and his throat getting really dry but he just kept laughing. He hoped his dad was dead. No, wait, he didn’t. No, he did. 

He fell onto the floor, his laughter ceasing. Gerard knelt next to him.   
“Are you ok?” Frank broke out in hysterical laughter again. Gerard joined in. Suddenly, he held Frank close in a hug and got close to his ear. Frank felt his head throb.

“Happy birthday, Frankie.” 

Frank stopped laughing immediately. He looked at Gerard in the eyes. “What did you say?”   
Gerard looked confused. “I didn’t say anything...”  
Frank blinked. There were stars exploding before his vision. His face felt wet. He heard himself crying. Gerard’s expression turned to concern. 

Frank stumbled to his feet and ran through the kitchen into a dark and empty room with a piano in it. He sank into a corner and cried. He wasn’t sure why, but he was really upset. 

Gerard was at his side, Frank didn’t know for how long, and began to whisper comforting things to him. Frank just looked up, confused. 

“I forgot why I’m crying.” Gerard nodded. Weed did that to you. 

“I think you’ve just had a long day,” Gerard offered. Frank just sobbed again. He remembered. 

“I remembered.” 

“Oh? What is it then?”

“My parents. No, you’re gonna think I’m weird...” 

“No, man. Nothing that happened changes who I know you are, you know?” 

“I don’t even know,” Frank choked out. “Do you like me?”

Gerard paused. “Yeah, I haven’t had a friend like you in foreve-“

“AgH!” Frank yelled. “You know what I mean.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe? What does it depend on?”

“If you like me...” 

Frank let out a laugh, the kind that sounds sad because you were just crying. 

“I do. I really do.” 

Gerard grinned in the dark. He held Frank’s hand. Frank felt himself smiling too. 

“And for the record,” Gerard added, glancing to the side, “I do think you’re weird. I think you’re a great diversion from the normal.”

Frank giggled, “You’re the worst kind of high right now.” 

“Maybe not. I’m just high enough to tell you how handsome I think you look. Every day. I look at you in band and say in my head, ‘how does he do it!’ I just wanna-“ Gerard cut himself off. 

Frank asked mock-innocently, “What do you wanna do-“

And then Gerard was kissing him. Frank felt tingly everywhere and kissed back. He crawled closer and Gerard leaned back to make room. Frank ended up on top of him as they made out. He held onto Gerard’s shirt collar for dear life as Gerard put one of his hands on Frank’s back and another in his hair. 

They breathed with relief, the sounds of the party feeling miles away. Frank felt so happy he could cry. Oh, shit, he was crying again. Gerard did not seem to notice, though. It was a good cry, and they seemed to both know that. Frank only pulled away when he felt himself getting a little too hot and bothered. 

Gerard smiled in the darkness. Frank was somber as tears continued to stream slowly down his face. 

“That was the first time I did that.”

“Your first kiss?”

“No,” Frank replied, “the first time I kissed someone I wanted to.”

“Oh.” Gerard adjusted his hand in Frank’s. 

“Sorry,” Frank said, looking down. 

“For what?” 

“I should’ve told you before.” 

“Why?”

Frank took a deep breath. “Because I’m gross.” 

Gerard paused, “I don’t think so...”

“I am,” Frank reaffirmed. “I’ve done so much shit. You couldn’t even imagine. I know way too much.” He squeezed his eyes and rubbed his face with his free hand. 

“Families never want me because they know it’s my fault. I could have told someone...” he was really sobbing now. He felt really numb. 

Gerard just stroked his arm quietly. Frank really liked that he didn’t squish him with a hug. It’s hard to manically cry when you’re in a hug. 

“Well,” Gerard said carefully, “you’re telling me now. It’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen someone do.” 

Frank just shook his head, “No. It’s too late. It’s too late to say anything. Nobody cares anymore. It’s too late for me.” He put his head in his knees. “The world friggin hates me.” 

“Frank,” Gerard began, “can I tell you something?” Frank made an ‘nnahhh’ sound. 

“Growing up here, being gay has sucked. People just want you dead and you want to change but you can’t... and then you want to be dead too.” He took a deep breath. “And online, you know, there are people like me and people that want to help that say ‘just wait. Life in the future will be better’. But dude,” Gerard let out a little laugh, “you’re the better life that they’re talking about. You make everything feel real because you are real. You’re sweet. You’re funny. It’s like from the time I first saw you I knew things would be better.”

Frank peeked out a little bit, “That’s how I feel about you.” 

There was a thoughtful silence. 

“I’m the one who should apologize,” said Gerard, “for cutting. It’s just, whenever I get a crush on a guy I get so mad at myself. Even though my mom and brother are nice about it, basically nobody else is. Sometimes I just want to see if I’ll finally finish it. But I won’t again.” 

Frank made a muffled noise of approval. He actually smiled. He suddenly grabbed Gerard’s hand tight. 

“Hey, my friend,” Frank said. 

“What?” 

“Do you wanna kiss again?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'll keep updating regularly. SORRY if that scarred you. I am. I just.... it gets happier at some point... *sighs*


End file.
